Meeting Sang
by starryeyedwings
Summary: Part of "The Academy: Introductions" from the boys' perspective
1. Nathan

**Disclaimer: These characters belong to C.L. Stone. I'm simply using them to fulfill my own writing fantasies. Thank you Ms. Stone for these wonderful stories and characters! 3**

Nathan

Early morning sunlight creeps through the slats of my blinds. I let out a groan and pull the covers up over my head. Damn Academy training. Sometimes I really wish my internal alarm isn't so attuned to Mother Nature. The strain of the past couple of days of missions announces themselves on my sore body.

While I want nothing more than to stay in bed I know it'll be far better if I get my ass up and moving to relieve the stiffness and tiredness from my muscles.

Aw, hell.

Shoving back the blanket I rub a hand over my face. A quick shave's in order. And a morning run will help wake me up. Putting on my favorite red Nike T-shirt and shorts I'm freshened up, ready and out the door in ten minutes flat.

Even as early as it is, South Carolina summer doesn't disappoint. The sun barely up and already I feel humid air clinging to my skin. I'm in no mood to work up a sweat today so I set my pace at an easy jog, earbuds dangling on my neck as I set my playlist to shuffle mode.

Following the trail in the woods behind my house, the crunch of shoes treading over mucky branches makes me pause. And then something louder - a strange, strangled yelp. Who the hell else is up and about this early?

"Someone out there?" I continue towards the sound, spotting a large maple tree that fell in the storm a few nights back.

A slight pause before I hear a whispered, "Yeah."

I squint up, trying to locate the source of the voice. "Where?" I ask.

"In the tree," comes the reply, before coughing ensues.

"Didn't you see it was down?" I round the gargantuan thing, still trying to discover the source of the voice. "Why didn't you take the other path?" I stop after spotting a blonde girl staring down at me from her position up on a high branch.

At first I'm unable to put my finger on why she looks familiar, before realizing she arrived with the new family that just moved into the two-story gray house down the street, next to Kota's. I've seen her around a couple but never got the chance to properly introduce myself. Guess today is as good a time as any. Something inside me lights up at the fact that she came walking out here so early. Maybe she likes the outdoors as I do, and early morning walks as well.

 _Shit. Focus, Nathan!_

"Can you get out?" I say, a hand over my eyes to block the sun. I try thinking of ways to help in case she is stuck.

"I think so," she whispers again. Why is she whispering? I can barely make out her words as it is. I ask if there's anything wrong with her voice and she just pats her hands over her throat.

"Your voice broke?" I assume.

The girl gives a funny little smile and nods. I watch as she moves around the tree, still trying to find a way out.

"Move left," I instruct, a plan forming. She moves to her left - my right, I realize belatedly. Wrong way. "Shit, sorry. I meant my left. Your right." She turns back and points to the trunk, questioning me with a glance. "Follow it down until you get past the branches." I manage to find my own way around, waiting until she stands where I want her, then tell her to jump down.

Her forehead creases. She looks like she was trying to decide what to do. Maybe she just needs some more convincing.

"You'll be fine. Come on." I lift up my arms. "Jump from there," I say.

I think she looks confused again. "Back up so I've got room," she says in that quiet voice.

What the hell? "No, it's fine. I'll get you." Is she insane, trying to make the jump on her own?

Her jaw drops. It gives her such a funny appearance, her small, delicate features buried within that mess of dirty blonde hair and too-large eyes. I try to hold back a grin, really I do, and fail fucking miserably. It's just too damn cute.

"Will you just listen to me?" I continue my attempt at persuasion. "Jump."

Still she hesitates. Argh. "Fuck thinking," I say finally, "thinking hurts the team. Jump." 'Thinking hurts the team'? Really, Nathan? I let out a snort at my own ineptitude. How long has it been since I've talked to a girl?

I open my arms again, wider this time. As she lands, I grip her tightly, spinning us around a bit to ease the momentum. She's much smaller than I expected, and her whole body shakes, thin, fragile. Delicate. I feel every tremor and every ragged breath she takes pressed up against my chest, and in that moment I don't want to let go. I have the desire to comfort her, let her know she is safe. So I rub at her shoulders.

"It's okay," I say, "you're fine. You made it." I repeat this a couple times, though unsure of whose benefit I'm really saying it more for.

She finally backs away, her eyes lowered and a deep red blush staining her pale cheeks. "Thank you," she says. "You're okay, right?"

She's worried about me? I nod, feeling my own face heat up at her concern. I attempt to play it cool, though, and revert the focus back to her. "What made you think you could climb over it like that?"

"It didn't look too bad from the other side. I guess I just wanted to see if I could."

So she's adventurous. I smirk. "You're not really dressed for climbing like that." I'm kidding, or think I am; she seems just too fun to tease. Predictably, her eyes widen a fraction before she checks herself over. I do the same and notice the bandage on her arm.

"What happened to your wrist?"

"I fell a couple days ago."

"You're accident prone. Come on." And before even realizing what I'm doing I've grabbed hold of her hand, leading us both back to the safety of the regular path. And then I let go, part of me wishing I can take it back, another part wondering why she didn't pull away or say anything, yet happy she didn't. Well, shit. That barely even made sense in my head.

"...down?"

"What?" I blurt out. Once again, real smooth. I missed her question while lost in my thoughts. I lower my face close to hear her better. She swallows before speaking again.

"How long has the tree been down?"

"A week, I think. I keep meaning to come back out here to clear it out from the path but I've been putting it off." I'm probably rambling. The girl watches me now with bright, curious green eyes like she's never heard someone say so much at once. "There was a bad storm before you moved in." Might as well add some more while I'm at it, then.

Then she blinks, suddenly started. "You know who I am?" Her tone reflects surprise. Did she think no one saw her move in? Practically everyone on the block saw the moving truck, or heard its rumbling towards the house. Everyone knows that house, at least. It's the only one in the neighborhood with the half court-sized driveway and the basketball net.

But she sounds as if she hasn't met anyone else yet. She really is shy. Shy, but sweet. For her sake I make it out like it's no big deal. "I've seen you around," I say. "I'm Nathan."

I lean in closer to hear better, but before I've barely moved she says again, "My name is Sang."

"Sang?" I repeat. She nods. I smile and motion in the direction of our houses. "Want me to walk you back?"

After another slight pause she says, "I don't mean to ruin your jog."

I shrug. "It's nothing." And I mean that. "Coming?" I add. We begin walking back towards the block and I try to engage her in conversation, wanting to know more about her. School seems like a safe bet.

"You're going to the public school, right?" She just nods again. I keep going, hoping I don't sound like a rambling idiot. "About time we had someone new around here. There's only a handful of kids on this street."

"I haven't seen them around."

Some part of me wants to jump up and down like a little kid at this announcement. I'm the first one she's met then, it seems. This shy, sweet, pretty girl.

"You will," I tell her, trying not to sound as smug as I feel. I swing my arms back and forth. She raises a pale brow at me, and it looks so comical on her small face with those large, expressive eyes of hers that I grin wide. "You've got the good basketball goal."

"The one hanging from the garage?"

"Yeah. Full height and that wide driveway that's at least half court, I think." I smirk. "Don't laugh, but I came over one night to jump on it, just to see if I could hang from it."

She smiles. "It's still there, so you must have made it."

"It's pretty strong," I agree. Then, after waiting awhile, "So what happened to your voice?"

She opens her mouth to reply but nothing comes out.

"You've been talking too much, huh? Girls always talk too much." I tease. She shoots me a friendly glare, and then we're both quiet as I lead us around a bent while I ask if she always goes for morning walks. If she says yes then I'm hoping to invite her out with me one day.

"I couldn't sleep and I hadn't followed this path yet, so I came to check it out."

"Did you try the woods on the other side of the street yet?"

"No. How do you get over there?"

I smile. I like this girl more and more by the minute. "I'll show you," I offer. There, that was casual, wasn't it? "It's a little easier to get lost over there though and there's some things you should see. Like there's a big ditch you may not see walking up to. I think that's how they drained the land around here, so they could develop it."

"I'll check it out," Sang says like an overeager kid. I let out a snort.

"On second thought, I ought to go with you over there. Don't go without me."

"I'll be fine."

"Uh huh." I turn to her, dead serious. Then I notice a maple leaf stuck to her hair, and, reaching over, pull it free from the strands before holding it up to her face. "You'll be fine, unless there's a fallen tree."

Her face flushes, mouth moving but no words coming out. She looks like a freaking fish out of water, trying to find something to say, it's hilarious. Man, I can't believe how much fun it is to tease Sang. The way her whole face just turns that adorable shade.

I add, "Think you could do it alone? As you wish. Next time I'll leave you." I let the leaf fall and start down the path again. Her footsteps quickly catch up to mine.

"How do you get over there?" she whispers.

"Nope. I'm not telling you now." I laugh.

She frowns, her lips forming a perfect pink pout. Damn. Before I blurt out anything stupid I make a face at her and a zipping motion with my fingers over my own mouth.

"Ugh. I'll figure it out."

"Sure."

The wooden fence of my backyard comes into view. "This is my stop." I wish the walk had been longer. I want more time with Sang but don't know how to ask without embarrassing myself or making her feel uncomfortable.

"You have a pool?" Sang suddenly asks.

I almost miss it, and after a startled pause, nod. Then she grins, wide, her features lighting up like she's discovered something insanely awesome. "Is it big?"

Whoa. Hmm, maybe this is my chance. "Come and look at it. You tell me." There's a piece of wood over a ditch in front that I cross about halfway before turning around. "Or do you want to do it yourself?"

She makes a funny face, but reaches out. I take her hand in mine and hold on it on it until we come to the other end. After I open the gate at the fence Sang bounds over to the edge of the pool, peering down into the water. Her face still looks eager, though at the same time scrunched in a way showing curiosity, eagerness.

"How deep is it?" she says.

A sudden, wicked idea blooms. I take my shoes off and sneak up to where Sang still stands with her back to me. Not to mention completely clueless of what I'm about to do. I put my hand on her back, and with one solid push, send her flying into the water. Quickly ripping off my shirt I dive in after her, touching the bottom before floating back up. Sang faces me, wide-eyed, clothes dripping, hair an adorable, wet, floppy mess.

I grin. "Did you find out?"

She's smiling, green eyes alight with pleasure. And then she splashes me. Hard.

I duck, half-heartedly lifting an arm to block the spray of water. "Hey there, little mermaid," I say, "you don't want to start that game with me. I win every time."

She pouts, splashing me again.

Well, then.

"As you wish." And I lunge towards her.

I see her jeans-clad legs desperately splashing underwater and trying to get away, but she's too slow with all that heavy clothing. And she's so adorably small, I can overtake her easily. Envelop her whole frame. With one lunge I'm at her side, my arms wrapping themselves around her tiny waist of their own accord. She stiffens momentarily, still splashing, before I lift us both out of the water and her onto my shoulder. I pause, waiting to see what she'll do.

Fuck it.

I throw her back in the water.

Sang lets out a yelp as she goes flying back into the pool not far from where I currently stand, hands on hips and a smug grin on my face. When Sang comes back up, sputtering, giggling, green eyes shut tight and cheeks flushed brightly, I burst out laughing.

She finally stops to give me a half-glare, shaking her head. "Not fair," she cries, pointing to her jeans and sneakers.

I stop and swim closer. "Take them off."

Sang's jaw drops, and the effect is comical enough on her soaked features to get me chuckling again. "What? No!" Her voice squeaks.

"Then lose," I challenge, staring her down. I inch closer, smug grin and all. One shoe goes flying out of the pool and lands with a thump on the concrete somewhere to my left. The other one joins it a moment later. And then she stops.

"I'm not taking my pants off," whispers Sang.

I can't help an eye roll at that. "You'll wear a bikini that has less material than you're wearing with that shirt and you won't take your pants off." I pause, a slow smirk working its way on my face. I can't help it. Teasing Sang is proving to be too much fun. "You are wearing underwear, right?"

And instantly Sang's face turns the color of sunburn. "Yeah..."

I feel a tad bit sorry now, so I say, "You could run back to your house and grab your bathing suit, I guess."

Sang is quiet, looking down. Her hands lift, lingering for a moment at her front. Then she does something totally unexpected. She goes to unzip her pants. My eyes widen involuntarily, and I start laughing again. I can't believe this girl!

"No!" I shout between chuckles, holding up a hand before she actually takes her pants off. "Stop it." God, she doesn't mind being in her underwear? I know what I said, but still. This girl is something. A part of me is disappointed for stopping her. Actually, maybe a bit more than disappointed. That part wants to see more of her. Thankfully, the better part is glad I didn't go through with it.

I swim to the edge of the pool and get out, making my way around to where she's situated and motion with my hands. "Come on. I've got an old pair of shorts that might fit you. If you tie them, they'll probably be okay." Right as Sang nears the edge I lower myself down to her eye-level and grab underneath her shoulders, pulling her up out of the water in one swift motion. She gives a little gasp, although I don't even think she realized it, but I heard and my heart gives a jerk.

She's panting hard, giving these breathy little gasps, and her cheeks are flushed a bright scarlet. The sight of it goes straight down to my groin, and I suppress a shudder. I've never been this affected by a girl.

I pull away after making sure she's steady on her feet before she can notice anything embarrassing. Going inside my house I rummage through old clothes Gabe sometimes leaves in our closets and return with a pair of green ones. I manage to calm myself enough to appear in front of her.

"Want to come in?" I ask.

She makes a face at me, then points down at herself. Eyes up, Nate, keep your goddamn eyes up. "I'm dripping," she whispers so low I nearly miss it in my internal conversation.

I give a snort. "So am I." I pull the sliding door open further and beckon to her. "There's a bathroom right there. You can put the shorts on if you want."

Sang nods.

"Do you want a T-shirt? It'll probably be big on you."

She nods again and tugs at her blouse. "It'll give time for this to dry."

"I'll toss them in the dryer after you're done." She goes inside and I close the door after, then rummage around in my closet for a tee. I find the dark blue one Dad brought back from a trip to New York, the one written in Japanese: _Girls are stupid; Throw rocks at them._

I can't help a grin. Perfect.

I walk up to the bathroom door and knock. "I've got a shirt."

Sang pokes out her head and I hand her the shirt, glancing over the letters curiously. I have half a mind to tell her what it says then think better of it. I don't want her to think I'm making fun of her right off the bat and plus I wanna save it for a later time.

"Does your dad fly helicopters?" she asks.

"Yeah." I nod, closing the door, and lean with my back to the frame. "He makes trips between here and New York. Sometimes to Florida. He's gone a lot."

Sang reappears and I turn around, eyeing her up and down. "It fits?" She tied the shorts tight at her waist, although it goes all the way down to her knees. The shirt is too many sizes too big and stops at her upper thighs.

"I look weird."

I laugh, shaking my head. Nope, she looks fucking adorable. "You're actually kind of cute. You should totally wear that your first day of school." As quickly as the thought comes I'm surprised to feel a tingle of happiness at her wearing my clothes. _Get a grip._

Sang's eyes narrow, but she lets out a giggle.

"Go jump in. I'll put these in the dryer."

I take the clothes from her and head back inside to go into the laundry room. By the time I come back out Sang is flitting beneath the water like a little mermaid, then shifts upward to go across the pool in a slow breaststroke before popping up at the surface and taking a breath. I stand at the edge of the pool, content to just watch her a while. "You could get faster," I say. Sang's head snaps in my direction, the start of a smile on her lips. She looks like she's about to say something by the glint in her eyes, but I continue on. "Pull your hands above your head as you do that thing where you bring your head up. Then as you're moving your feet, spread out your hands and pull like you're crawling through the water." I motion with my arms to show her exactly what I mean.

She takes it all in seriously, nodding every few times before she dives back in to do what I told her to do. I watch as she throws herself against the pool, curving into the water, her arms and legs following through the stroke movements perfectly, and she reaches the other side quicker than the first time.

I hoot loudly and congratulate her. She rubs at her arm. "You should do some weight training. Are you going to join the swim team?" I ask, sliding in to stand beside her.

"I'm not much a competitor."

"You're shitting me!"

She laughs. "I don't mind a short race."

"Should we race?" I ask. _Say yes say yes say yes._

Sang's eyes widen slightly. For a second I think she's gonna say no. "I'll try," she whispers, and I feel my heart soar and the start of something devious start in me.

"Should we bet on the outcome?" I ask her, waggling my eyebrows.

"You'll win."

"You don't know that. You're pretty quick. You're smaller than me, too. You could probably move through the water faster than I could." Not exactly true, but hey, never hurts to boost a girl's ego. _Especially a cute one's_ , I think, grinning to myself.

"What do you want?" she asks.

"If you win, what would you want?"

She doesn't hesitate. "I want to know the secret to getting into the back of woods."

I break into a wide grin. God this girl. "I was going to show you that anyway," I say. Sang purses her lips, quiet, considering. Then she points to the shirt.

"This?" she says.

 _She wants my shirt? She wants my shirt,_ I think, wonderingly. Huh. Don't know what to make of that. I just nod instead. "If I win…" I pause, glancing over her face again. Then I make a decision. "If I win, you promise that if we went up with a class together, you'll sit next to me."

Sang's brows lifted. "That's it?"

I have no idea what that means, but I decide to play it casual. "Hey, if I'm going to cheat off of someone, I'd like a willing participant," I say, grinning.

It works.

Her mouth pops open, her eyes widen, making them so large they seem to take up her whole face. Her fingers hover at the base of her throat. "Nathan?" she says softly.

"I'm kidding," I laugh. "I don't cheat."

Then she grins, the wicked gleam from before back in her eyes. "I do." And with that she positions herself up against the edge of the pool.

"Really?"

Instead of a reply, she shoots away from the wall under the water and swims a good distance away from before I manage to catch up. She's halfway across the pool before I reach her, though, and I'm pretty impressed. But I'm still fast for her, and now I want to win even more because of the bet. So I grab at her ankle and give a hard jerk. She sails backward, and I finish at the other end, chuckling.

She surfaces, gasping, sputtering, which only makes me laugh harder.

"Cheat!" she wheezes out.

"You can't cheat if you didn't set rules," I quip back smugly. I'm rewarded by her sticking out her tongue at me. She's so silly, I love it. "Don't go pulling that face on me. You owe me now."

She splashes at me.

"I warned you about splashing." Then I catch her before she can move away, and we play for about another pool, laughing and swimming and splashing about. Finally she holds up a hand and I stop in the middle of throwing water at her with my hands, poised to strike. She crawls out, falling on her stomach on the patio and taking in deep lungfuls of air.

"Give up?" I ask.

"You play rough." Her voice croaks. I laugh. "And here I thought I had my own little mermaid who could keep up," I challenge.

"You know she dies at the end of the original story."

I frown. "What? Why?"

"She sacrifices herself for the prince's happiness."

Well that fucking sucks. I didn't mean to put a damper on things. I let her know that it's fucked up. "Wasn't he happy with her?"

"He was in love with another girl."

"What an ass."

Sang stops speaking then and turns on her back. I watch, my eyes raking over her body like they're unable to help it. I can't help it. She's so cute, sweet, funny. I really hope we do have a few classes together. That would be awesome. But even if we don't we could still see each other every day since she lives so close by. I try to come up with more excuses to call her back, and not for the first time so glad that Dad decided to have the pool installed. Yeah, that's perfect, she'll want to come swim. Maybe we could even make a date of it, and then go to the movies, have dinner…

Whoa. Gotta slow down.

Although really, I don't want to. I like this girl. Not the usual type I go for. But maybe she's the exception. I don't care anyways. I like her. I'm really starting to like her. And we had so much fun together.

Sang shifts a little, and the breeze flicks open the side of her shirt. At first I notice the wet fabric sticking close to her body quickly avert my eyes so as not look like a pervert. But then I spot the dark purplish bruise at the side of her hip.

"Where'd you get that?" I ask, reaching out to lift the shirt to get a better look. Damn, it's a good one. I notice that Sang's suddenly still, rigid like she's trying to understand what I'm doing or something, but she doesn't protest so I pull down the shorts a bit more. And suck in a breath. "Jesus. What'd you do that for?"

"I fell," says Sang, softly.

"On to someone's foot?" I attempt a joking manner. I don't know if it's working.

"On to the concrete."

Concrete bruises never look that bad. At least, not in a way I've ever seen. And I know bruises. Gotten more than a few shares of them myself.

"How the hell did it get that bad on your hip?" I demand.

"It was the angle, I think." She's still so easy bout it all, like it doesn't matter. I'm actually surprised she didn't say anything before, while we were fooling around. Not a single word or wince or anything to indicate her hip was hurting that bad. And it _has_ to be hurting her. No way it isn't.

What kind of a girl is she, exactly?

"It's fine," she says. "Looks worse than it feels."

Yeah, right. "Probably not." I shake my head, already starting to get up. I might have some arnica cream still left over somewhere. "I've had my share of bruises. That's a nasty one." I give her a hand up.

"I can't do anything for it."

"I've got something." I pull her toward the shed in the back, feeling a bit smug that I managed to hold her hand, even amidst my concern for her, and that she hasn't let go. I stop at the door and tell her to wait there before I unlock the latch and walk in, flicking on the overhead lights.

Despite my cautioning here that the floor could be slippery, I see Sang out of the corner my eye, hesitantly making her way in, looking around with a wondering expression. She's like an open book.

"You do karate?" she says.

"Kind of." I reply, coming up behind her.

She turns to face me, blinking, confusion written plain as day on her face.

"It's Jujitsu. And Taekwondo. And some other martial arts. Karate is just a different style."

Her mouths pops open in an 'o'. "That's really cool," she says, and I soften my smile.

"I know," I say, and lead her back outside. "Let me see that bruise again."

She lifts up her shirt, and I squirt out some cream into my hand before delicately pressing it onto the bruise. Her skin is soft, warmed up from the sun. I shut down my thoughts.

"What is this?" Sang says. She wrinkles her nose, and I can't help but laugh, thankful for the distraction. It comes out a bit low though, husky-sounding, and I hope she didn't notice the change.

"Arnica cream," I reply, "it's supposed to help with bruising and sore muscles." I wipe my hands off on my trunks before handing over the tube. "Put this on twice a day until it starts to turn green," I tell her.

"Thank you."

I fix my eyes on her face. "You know, you're pretty nice for a girl."

Sang's eyes widen again, giving her that startled deer appearance, and the faint tinge of reddish pink blankets across her cheeks. I never realized how much fun it could be to make a girl blush, but damn if it isn't probably the best thing I've ever seen so far.

"What?" Sang chokes.

"You know," I say, waving a hand over my head, "girls are all 'give me that' and usually want to get all cute on the couch and not get their hair wet and … yeah, indoor types." _What am I saying?_ I was basing what I knew of girls so far from Danielle since we basically grew up together. She's always trying to get me to pay attention to her and whined every chance she got and fuck if that wasn't annoying. The other girls I've ever really known were all Academy, and I've hung around them a bit, kissed a few, but that was really how far I got. I was never interested before, since none really caught my interest.

Until Sang.

She's lifting a brow now, looking skeptical. "Girls don't like wet hair?"

"You're totally missing the point." I chuckle.

"Probably because I'm a girl," she says, a bit defensively. I just roll my eyes and laugh again. I'm about to say something else—I don't know what exactly, but something along the lines of if she wants to hang out with me—when my phone rings. I race over to pick it up. It's Kota.

"Hey! What's up?"

He sounds a little frantic, which worries me. He's asking if I can do something for him, a favor, but that he needs me to be quiet about it and not tell anyone else, not even Mr. B. Then he stops. Huffs out a breath. "Hold up, you busy? What are you doing right now?" he says.

"Uh, no. I was just swimming with Sang, she's the…" I was about to say, _girl from up the street_ , but Kota beats me to it. He seems relieved, somehow. "You know her?" I ask, turning to Sang and arching a brow. Sang never mentioned she knew Kota.

"Yes, I know Sang. We met and—actually can you two come over right now? We need to talk."

This is weird. What's going on here? "Yeah, okay. We'll come over." I hang up the phone, unable to help the jab of regret I'm feeling inside as I watch Sang walk toward me. I didn't realize she's already met Kota. I was hoping I was the first one, that I could keep her to myself for a bit. Get to know her better. I should've approached her as soon as she moved in.

I check the watch at my wrist, stalling for time, trying to compose myself from the unexpected disappointment. "Have to be somewhere?" I ask quietly.

Sang shakes her head. Her expression changes slightly and now she looks unsure, like she doesn't know what to do. She looks lost.

"Let's get dressed. How'd you meet Kota?" I ask, ignoring the look in her eyes for now.

"Long story," she replies, a bit of warmth returning to her features. I give her a smile.

"Tell me on the way to his house."

 **A/N: Thought I'd extend this chapter all the way up until when Sang and Nathan are heading over to Kota's house. Before, I didn't write them playing in the pool but then I thought, why the hell not, and decided to go for it. Hope you enjoyed! Read, rate, and comment, please! I'm hoping to extend the other boys' soon when I get the chance, but no promises on the timing though, so you'll just have to bear with me and be patient.**


	2. Victor

**DISCLAIMER: All credit for these character goes to the lovely, wonderful, amazing C.L. Stone. I own nothing. *sigh* (But Victor wants you to be his Princess)**

Victor

I pull into Kota's driveway as the sun is making its way higher up in the sky. Cutting the engine on the BMW I glance up at the house. The ranch-style is quiet. I frown. My eyes rove over to my friend's window, in the room above the garage. Is he still asleep? Unbelievable. We're supposed to go to the mall today for our suit fittings. He barely ever sleeps in and never when we have things to do, especially Academy-related things.

From my set of keys I find the ones to Kota's front door and turn it in the lock quietly, not wanting to wake his mom or sister if they're still asleep. The foyer is quiet too, the hallway to his room seemingly undisturbed. Where the hell is he?

I take the stairs two at a time up to his room. Sunlight temporarily blinds my sight, although as I enter they catch on a lump under the blankets.

Well.

I pause, a slow grin working its way on my face. I probably won't ever get this chance again, and no way in hell am I going to pass it up now, even if Kota skins me alive for it later. Totally worth it.

I creep up to the side of the bed, suddenly ridiculously giddy. "Hey, Kota!" I cry, obnoxiously loud on purpose. "Still sleeping? What's wrong with you?" And then I leap onto the bed, attempting to trap Kota with his own blankets and my weight combined. I hear a sharp cry, a muffled grunt. Kota struggling to free himself, but I made sure he was good and tangled. "Are you getting up or what?" Unable to keep the grin off my voice I continue on. If I'm going to die, might as well go off with a bang, because Kota will murder me first chance he gets. "The world is spinning on without you."

"Victor."

What the—can't be . . . Kota's voice. But why would it be from behind me . . . ?

I freeze.

Then spin around and—no. Way.

That's not Kota standing at the foot of the bed, staring at me with an expression I can't decipher. And unsolved puzzles bother me to no end. He's—annoyed? A tick works in his jaw, like he's trying hard not to laugh. But if he's here then—

I yank the blanket away. My jaw drops, and I stare, dumbfounded, at the girl looking back at me with wide eyes in Kota's bed. A girl. In Kota's bed. In. Kota's. _Bed._

She is all hair and eyes, the blonde mess strewn about her features and large green eyes made even bigger by the stunned look in them. _She's_ surprised?

"Who . . ."

But before I can string together a coherent sentence Kota pipes up with, "Victor, this is Sang."

"Uh . . ." It seems I still can't come up with anything. And how can I? I just found a girl—a _girl_ —in Kota's bed. That alone is reason enough for my confusion, but especially today when we have actual, important, _things_ to do.

But for some reason I can't take my eyes off of her. Her adorably flushed face and those eyes. A thousand questions race through my mind faster than I can figure them out, make my thoughts a garbled, jig-sawed mess. The only thing that shoots clear through is that I should probably get off the bed and off of her.

So I do.

And blurt out the first thing that finally comes to mind. "What are you doing here? I mean, in his bed," I add, instantaneously wincing at how that sounded.

Then Kota says as if announcing the weather, "She slept here." He's smiling when I turn to him. Actually smiling! What the hell? He has the cool, collected air about him that I so often admire and envy at times. Now it just makes me want to grab him and shake him.

"Are you kidding me?" I manage out. I'm sure it's close to yelling.

"Don't get weird. And don't tell my mom. I don't think she'll understand."

 _What?_ Yeah, neither do I. Understand what, exactly? That Kota has a girl sleeping in his bed? A girl who looks about twelve? Nope, don't get it.

"But _why_ is she . . ."

And then Erica's voice trails up the stairs. "Kota? Do I hear Victor up there?" Her footsteps approach.

Kota flashes me a look, one I've seen so many times and know instinctively. Even as confused as I am, I trust Kota. I know what to do. I jump into his bed once more, shoving the girl over and under the blankets while Kota makes his way over to the steps. Sang stiffens, most probably shocked, as I position myself in a way that completely hides her small frame. At least, I hope it does.

Erica enters the room just as I get myself situated.

"Yes, we're up here," says Kota.

"Hi, Victor."

"Hi." Was that casual enough?

"I thought you boys could come down for breakfast. It's almost ready." Erica doesn't think anything amiss. _Yet._

"Mom. Is it okay if I let Sang stay for breakfast, too?"

 _What!_ I flash Kota a look, one he ignores, however.

"Sure. Who's Sang?" Erica seems to be playing it cool. God I really wish at times like this she could've been my mother. Jasmine never would've let it go.

"She's the girl from next door. The family that just moved in."

"Oh."

 _Pause._ I definitely heard a pause. Uh-oh. Is she suspicious? My fingers anxiously trace along imaginary keys, before I come to my senses and realize I'm _this_ close to touching parts of the girl underneath me I shouldn't be touching. Damn. I hope she doesn't think I'm intentionally being perverted or anything.

Erica seems to be holding her breath, as if waiting for something, hell if I know. Then finally: "Where is she?"

"In the bathroom."

"She came in with me," I put in, hoping it sounds more normal.

"Sounds good. Have her come down. I made eggs."

Right after she leaves I clamber off and pull the blanket away from the girl. Then hesitate, tilting my head.

"Are you wearing . . ." I was going to ask if she's wearing Kota's pajamas, and if that's why she doesn't look quite right in them.

"Yes," interrupts Kota with a huff. "I'll explain later. She needs to hurry and get dressed."

I hurry out of the way so she has room to stand. I can't resist the urge to do another once-over. Despite her disheveled appearance, she still looks absolutely adorable, especially with those large, bright green eyes of hers that are staring back at me curiously.

Kota must've said something, because Sang nods her head at him and then he's tugging on my arm, dragging me out of the room.

"But . . ." I've never stuttered this much in my entire life, public or private. Victor Morgan never stutters. Or stammers. Or loses his thoughts so completely. What the hell is wrong with me? Kota yanks at my arm again, and this time I follow him down and into the dining room.

We settle ourselves at the dining table, waiting for Sang. Kota brings an office chair that he sat in and leaves an empty dining table chair between us. _Yes._ I cheer.

Erica spots her first, shouting out a warm hello. I immediately turn and am struck dumb for what seems like the thousandth time that morning.

Sang's changed into her own clothes, and I can see now how truly pretty she is. And much older than I originally thought. Probably close to our own age, maybe a bit younger.

Introductions are made during my musings as she sits down. Kota drops a heaping spoonful of eggs onto her plate. I follow it up with a few bacon slices. We eat in silence for a while, though I itch with the urge to glance at her every now and then. As it is, I can't focus and simply pick at my plate, chewing to show some semblance of eating.

"So how did you meet my son? And Victor?" Erica asks.

I seize the opportunity to face her fully. Kota replies for her.

"I met her yesterday," he says.

And I quip with my own, "I only bumped into her today. Kind of surprised me, to be honest." I send her an amused smile, and her cheeks instantly flame scarlet. With her already pale skin, they match a tomato. Man she's so cute.

"Will you be going to their school?"

"Yup. She's in the same grade as us."

The fact that she is our age makes me strangely glad. And also somewhat relieved.

Erica gives us both stern looks before glancing at Sang. "You've got such a lovely voice, Sang. And that ventriloquism thing you do is amazing. A real talent."

Whoops. Kota and I exchange sheepish glances. We didn't mean to do that, but she hasn't seemed too eager to talk, either.

Then she grins, and her features transform from pretty to stunning. "You know how guys are," she says. "Give them two minutes, they think they know everything."

I drop my fork, gawking at her in stunned disbelief. Partly because she looks so amazing right then with that grin, large eyes made even larger by the triumphant gleam in them and pink lips spread wide to show teeth. And partly because I didn't think her the cheeky type, but she'd just proved me wrong. The girl has sass.

Kota laughs so hard I fear he'll spit out his food, eyes closing and clenching his stomach.

"Smart girl. Keep an eye on this one, Kota. She's got your number," says Erica. Kota mutters something under his breath I don't catch but that makes Sang look at him in surprise. Then Kota turns to her and winks, making her giggle, and something flares inside me. Is Kota actually _flirting_ with her? Is she? And—wait, why the hell do _I_ suddenly care?

Erica shoos us outside, saying something about not wasting away the day. I'm still too focused on Sang to hear much of anything else though as the three of us walk outside to Kota's driveway.

Max pads over from the back of the house when he spots us, and Sang laughs before immediately jumping behind Kota. He stops his dog with a palm held out, facing forward. "No. Sit. You did enough damage already." Max whines but does as told. I can't help a small smirk and eye roll. Not even animals disobey Kota when he uses that tone.

Then I catch sight of Sang's bandaged hand and put two and two together. "So, that was from Max?"

She nods. "It wasn't his fault. He just surprised me and I hit the pavement."

I return a sympathetic look before facing Kota. I cross my arms, hoping I look as intimidating as he or Mr. Blackbourne does whenever they demand any kind of answers from us.

"All right," I say, "out with it. I've been playing along all morning. I'd like to know what kind of trouble I'm digging myself into."

"She was out late walking home when Max broke the lead and … well … I couldn't just let her go home bleeding."

Huh? Max broke the lead? That isn't possible. That dog barely even gives a whine out of Kota's command. But Kota's look dares me to challenge him.

Then Sang speaks. "I was out so late that sneaking back in would have meant more trouble at my house."

"It just kind of happened," Kota adds quickly.

I glance between the two of them. There is definitely something I am missing here, although what that is I have no clue. Kota will just have to tell me later when we're on our own, because no way in hell am I going to leave him alone until he does. He _knows_ how much I can't stand to leave things hanging.

"Give her a break, Vic."

I don't realize that I was staring at Sang this whole time until Kota steps in front of her. She peeks out at me from over his shoulders. Her look seems pleading, as if asking, _is everything okay?_ and _I'm sorry I can't tell you,_ simultaneously. I understand. She doesn't know me, or even Kota, well enough yet to reveal her secrets. And she must have at least a few significant enough for Kota to pick her up like he did. I also know how hard it is to open up to people—how hard it was been for me to tell the guys about George and Jasmine, even after I knew them for ages. So I return her look, briefly, trying to express to her I mean no harm, and would not press.

"Okay," I say, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "Well, I came over to take Kota to the mall. Are you going with us?"

Sang's eyes widen. They flick back and forth between the both of us. She looks eager. Yet … I want to say something to her, tell her not to worry, tell her that I want her to come along, become friends with us. But I also want to wait to see what she has to say, if only to hear that soft, delicately husky voice of hers.

I've nearly lost my patience—what little I possess—when Kota says, "Maybe we can put that off for a few hours."

"No." Sang shakes her head. She bends down to pet Max, who immediately rolls over to expose his belly. "It's okay. You guys go. I've got things to do. I wouldn't want to slow you two down."

Kota crouches down beside her. "Do you want to go?"

My eyes are on Sang, and I catch every movement this time, each flicker of indecision. Hesitation. Curiosity. Eagerness. Damn. Why can't I figure her out? I've never met such a difficult, puzzling, frustrating, and at once adorable girl.

"It probably doesn't matter. I wouldn't be allowed anyway."

 _What?_ That doesn't sound right. She isn't allowed to go to the mall?

"What if we went and asked?" I put my hands on my hips, looking down. "I mean, we're not ax murderers." I'm joking, of course. But still, doesn't hurt to reassure parents sometimes. Some of them could be overly cautious of their kids.

She smiles.

I think I melt again. A little.

"It's complicated. My mom would just say no right off. It doesn't matter who asks."

"We could try," Kota pleads. It seems the both of us are in agreement of wanting Sang to come along, never mind the fact that we're doing Academy-related things. But from the outside, it'd just seem like any ordinary shopping trip anyhow.

Sang purses her lips. "If you really want me to go, give me a few minutes," she says.

"What're you going to do?" Kota looks puzzled, but I figure it out instantly. And I don't like it. Not one bit.

"She's going to lie, dummy," I say, frowning.

"Really, it's no big deal if we go talk to them," Kota tries again to reason.

"I think it's better if I just make a quick appearance and then don't mention I'm going. They won't notice I'm missing for a few hours."

I guessed right. Something is definitely going on, bigger than what I originally assumed. Something definitely not right. Something to do with her family. But she seems such a sweet girl. The urge to know more about Sang is growing stronger and stronger by the minute.

Kota and I exchange another glance. Then I shrug. "We'll wait," I say finally. She begins walking away when Kota suddenly runs ahead, saying something I can't make out. Then he nods.

"Just grabbing her stuff," he says in passing to me.

My eyes remain on Sang the entire time as she follows Kota back into his house before running up the street and disappearing inside her own house. I get into my car and park it into her own driveway, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

The questions, oh, the infinite questions that burn through my mind.

The silence in the car is deafening. Neither Kota nor I say anything to each other while we wait for Sang to come back. Part of me wonders if she just ditched us. We do come off as weird to people outside our group, after all.

The sound of a car door opening startle me out of my thoughts. I watch Kota get out and hold the door open for Sang, who I see to my relief approaching the car, albeit slower than I would have liked.

Patience, Victor. Patience has never been my strong suit, and this girl is seriously testing my self-control. Sang quickly hops into the car while Kota stands outside a bit, studying the house before slipping inside.

Finally.

I put the car in reverse and back out of the driveway. My thoughts swirl. I know I can't pounce on her with all my questions—yeah, that'll be a surefire way to scare her off before I even get the chance to properly know her.

But I want to know at least _something,_ anything. Although as soon as I feel her presence beside me I swear I lose all nerve.

Argh.

What is wrong with me, dammit!

 _You are Victor Morgan. You. Are. Victor. Morgan._ I repeat the mantra over and over to myself. To no avail. Sang doesn't seem like any other girl I've met. She doesn't speak much, doesn't fawn over me the way others did. Then again, she is new to town, and probably knows next to nothing about me or my family. That sparks something inside me, something warmly pleasant.

Kota chatters on about random things. I tell him to call Silas and be ready when we get there.

"Is he answering?" I ask.

"Hey, you ready?" says Kota on the phone. "We're almost there."

"Who are we getting?" Sang asks.

"An ax murderer," I can't help say. I grin, glancing at her out of my periphery. "Will you please buckle in? It's bad enough we kidnapped you."

I hear the _click!_ of the belt buckle and reassured, fiddle with the radio, searching for some classical tunes. When I find something I stop, then frown, wondering if Sang would prefer modern songs.

"Will this put you to sleep?" I ask.

"I love Vivaldi."

My jaw drops and I stare at her. "What did you say?"

Sang's eyes go wide and she nods to me. I realize then that in my surprise I let go of the wheel and grab hold of it again, swerving the car a bit back to the middle of the lane.

"I said I like Vivaldi. Summer is okay. I like Winter best, though."

Holy. Crap.

She really does know Vivaldi. She even knows what _song_ of his is playing. Oh God. I glance up at the mirror, knowing that Kota will be returning my gaze. Sang is … she's … unique. Wonderful. Amazing. Adorable.

There are no words for what this girl is doing to me.

I pull into Silas's complex and slow, searching for his apartment. I briefly glance at Sang again. And almost do a double-take. Almost. She has her nose nearly pressed up against the window, wide-eyed, looking like a puppy.

"Will you stop being cute? Your nose is smudging the window. My god, you're worse than a puppy."

Where did that come from? I simply blurted out my thoughts. Here Sang, here's Victor Morgan's befuddled brain on a silver platter. I need to calm myself the hell down, for God's sake.

But Sang is blushing, and I take it to mean she thought I was joking. Good. Because actually, I wasn't, but I do not need her to know that. I shoot her a playful smirk.

"Sorry," she says.

"She's new," says Kota, totally misunderstanding. "She's going to be interested in stuff."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I got that, Sherlock, thank you. Come on, let's go get Silas."

"Who's Silas?" Sang asks as she unbuckles.

"Goes to our school," replies Kota. "Head on up."

As we're going up the stairs, I suddenly get a wild idea. Before I can talk myself out of it, I tug on Sang's arm at the top and point in front of the door. "Stand here," I order. Then I ring the door and quickly pull Kota back against the wall with me.

I can't _wait_ to see the look on Silas's face.

 **A/N: OH. MY. GOOD. GOLLY. GOSH. I AM SO. SO. SO. SORRY! Did I really write the first chapter of this thing in freaking October?! *gasp* It can't be! Argh. Alas. It is. I'm so sorry, my wonderful readers for making you wait oh-so-excruciatingly long for this. College is a real sucker. I love it, but I hate it because I can't spend time on things I want to. And then on the instances that I DO get time, I'm so brain-drained I couldn't possibly come up with anything worth posting, so I don't even bother. And then I get busy again. So the cycle goes. So. A sincere apology to you all for making you wait so long. I can't promise how soon I'll have the next chapter up, but I can promise I won't make you guys wait like ten thousand million months this time. And if I don't follow up on my promise, well then, you can throw tomatoes at me. Or potatoes. Or baseballs. Or squawking chickens. Also, a HUGE thank-you to all who read and reviewed the chapter. Thanks, guys! Your comments were super encouraging! (But don't be scared to also be disparaging! I don't mind criticisms. Really. It just makes me want to write better). So keep 'em coming, folks! Also, I'm starting a game with y'all - care to join? It's called, "let's guess who my favorite Academy boy is". Yayyyyyy. Here's the only hint you'll get: I haven't done him yet. And yes, pun FULLY intended. ;)**


	3. Silas

**A/N: All characters mentioned herewith belong to the wonderfully imaginative C.L. Stone. I own nothing *sigh* Still waiting on that reply from her about co-authoring though . . . Or at least getting a kiss from one of the boys. Just one? Pretty please?**

 **Enjoy! Please review! 3**

Silas

I have no clue what to say.

Greek and English muddle together in my head as I stare down at the tiny doll of a girl standing at my door, looking up at me with wide, nearly frightened eyes. They're a bright, clear green, a shade paler than new grass in early spring. They complement her button nose and soft heart-shaped pink lips. I grasp at something, anything, and then suddenly words tumble out.

"Do you have the wrong place?" I say. I really meant to ask, did you just move in here? Do you live next door? Could you please live next door? What's your name? But again words escape me amidst jumbled thoughts.

"What a pick up line," a voice somewhere says.

I twist around to see Vic leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. Kota stands behind him with the funniest expression on his face. It looks like he can't decide whether or not to laugh or something else.

"Who's she?" I demand. Did the guys recruit someone new without telling me? Or bringing along someone else from the Academy for the day for something else they forgot to mention?

The girl squeaks something, or maybe she just has a quiet voice, because I couldn't hear what she said. I turn back to her, raising a brow. "Huh? Say that again?" I cringe inwardly.

"My name is Sang," she says.

"She moved into a house down the road from mine," Kota explains. "She's coming along."

I want to ask why but at the same time I sort of don't care. She's just—she's just—I don't even know. I was really hoping she moved into my apartment complex and was lost, and I had this whole plan in my head of how she said that yes, she did have the wrong place and could I please help her find apartment number so-and-so and …

I'm getting carried away. I'm certain I've been staring too long at her. At Sang. I shrug. "Let me close the door." I hope I look nonchalant as I turn my back to her, locking the door. When we start walking back to the car, I glance at Sang every now and again. She walks a little behind Kota on my left, with Victor between us, hands at her middle, head facing slightly downward.

"We've got to work on your people skills," Victor says. I glare at him, wishing he'd shut up, but he continues. "You're supposed to at least say hello when you answer the door."

 _Yeah, dumbass. He's right, you know._ But I couldn't come up with anything else in that moment, so I reply truthfully, "She looked lost." I feel eyes on me and know at once that it's Sang. I turn to her and she blushes, looking away. No, I think, don't do that. Look at me. "I didn't scare you, did I?" I say, hoping she'll turn around.

She jerks her head no. She still looks frightened, though, and it makes me a bit sad. I think I did frighten her, she just won't admit it.

When we get back to the car, the next thing I know Sang is turning to me, gaze questioning. I'm a bit taken aback before realizing that she means for me to take the front.

"I don't mind," I say, and I mean it. I want to make certain of this girl's comfort before my own. I don't even question where a thought like that came from.

"Neither do I," she replies. I tilt my head, studying her a moment. She didn't appear the stubborn type at first, but now she has a sort of determined air about her, eyes alight in a challenge, nose scrunched up in the most adorable way.

I like her.

"Someone get in," Victor huffs from the driver's seat. I give her a small smile and fold my legs into the passenger side while she and Kota take the rear. The classical shit Vic always listens to is on inside the car so I start fiddling with the radio. But he slaps my hand away. "Hey, when you drive, you get to pick."

"Sang wouldn't like this stuff," I quip.

"She already said she did." Vic sounds smug, the bastard.

What?

I know Kota doesn't care, but most people our age usually don't listen to anything without vocals. So I crane my head to face her. "Is he shitting me?"

"I, uh..." Sang raises her fingers to her lips, eyes wide and too-large on her small face. She looks scared again. Shit. Why do I keep doing that?

"She likes it." Kota turns to me, giving me a look I don't understand right now. Before I can say anything though Sang speaks up again.

"But I like rock, too. And some other stuff. I like a lot of different types of music."

Ha! Yes! She said she likes rock. I smile cockily at Victor. "You're outnumbered. Kota likes rock."

"Kota likes anything."

Enough of this. I roll my eyes and switch the station anyways.

"Hey!"

"No, keep that."

"Si."

"Vic."

We glare at each other awhile, but Vic has to turn his focus back to the road just as quickly, and I lean back against my seat smugly. I've won this round. But Victor won't let it go, groaning about "squeaky guitars". When the song ends he changes the station again, and the electric guitar and vocals instantly become soft piano.

"Vic, that shit is putting me to sleep."

"Sleep, then!"

I grunt and turn away, turning my thoughts instead to the girl sitting behind me. She's quiet, and when I peer through the side mirror see her with her face nearly pressed to the glass, watching the outside with a newborn's curiosity. I can't help a grin. Adorable.

I start planning ways to ask her out, then wonder whether any of the other guys are into her. I love them like brothers, and they are my brothers in a way, more like a family to me than my own. I don't want to do anything that would compromise the relationship we have. But Sang seems different, special, somehow. Everyone so far seems to be getting along fine, like friends, and if no one makes a blatant claim on her then I will.

And I go back to thinking how best to ask her out, how I can find out what she likes to do, what she doesn't like, her hobbies. I hope she likes baseball, but maybe that's asking too much. Ah well. The Greeks aren't known for their subtlety with women anyways.

Yeah, just blame it on being Greek. I snort.

Victor gives me a questioning glance. I shake my head and motion for him to turn back to the road. So far it seems like the guys aren't interested in Sang in that way. At least, Kota hasn't said anything, and I'll bet my heritage that he's the one who initiated, he's the one who truly knows what's going on here and why Sang's with us today.

Before long Victor's pulling into the parking lot of the mall. Just as the car's barely stopped I jump out and hold the door open for Sang, wanting to do anything to please her, to try and show her that despite my much larger size, I wouldn't hurt a fly.

Sang smiles and looks down, though not before I catch her blushing face.

Shit, yeah, no way in hell I'm not asking her out if the others don't.

I want to hold open the main door of the mall for her, and every other one, but Kota beats me to the first one. I get the next one, and make sure to do it while I look down, trying to smile. I can tell she's still scared of me, and it probably has everything to do with the fact that she's so tiny I could just pick her up and throw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She probably weighs even less than the sack of potatoes.

Sang looks up briefly, smiles, and whispers a "thank you" in that delicate voice of hers. I grin. I'm not much of a talker, but this shy, quiet girl makes me want to talk, to get words out of her, just to hear her voice more.

We fall into our usual pattern of chatter as soon as we enter the mall and orient ourselves to head in the direction of the Armani store. There are no shortage of events we have to attend on occasion that need a formal attire, and since we'll be busy attending the public school this year every day, Mr. Blackbourne and Victor figured it'd be easier to get all the shopping done beforehand and out of the way.

Most likely Vic just wants to get something quick before Gabe gets the chance to come along and spend hours cursing our "fucking lack of fucking fashion sense." Out of all us, North has the least patience, then Vic. Or maybe those two are tied, sometimes I can't tell.

I hear Vic's voice, a little high-pitched, saying something beside me.

Sang. I almost forgot about her.

I take a guilty peek behind me and there she is, whole face colored a deeper shade than a tomato. She looks even more adorable when she's embarrassed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be following you so closely," she says in that quiet way that I'm beginning to associate with her now.

Vic's cheeks are also flushed. He's staring at Sang like, like—actually, I have no clue. Hmm. Interesting. I'm gonna hound him about it later.

"You shouldn't be walking behind us," says Kota.

"Yeah. Come on. Walk up here with us," I pitch in. I reach out to grab her wrist, only to feel her stiffen. My hand completely envelops her much smaller one, and I turn it over and see the white bandages taped to her arm. My eyes widen.

 _What the hell?_

Thoughts rage through my head. _Maybe this is why she's with us. She needs our help. This is why Kota and Vic brought her along. Is she having troubles at home? Is she getting abused? Who the fuck would do something—_

I'm sure I'm muttering angrily in some language, I don't even know which as I pull up Sang's wrist, slowly, but firmly, to my face level.

"Who did this to you?" I blurt out. I think my voice was a bit too loud, but I don't give a fuck, not right now.

Her eyes widen, although before she can say anything Kota nearly leaps in front of her. "It was Max. He jumped on her and she didn't expect it."

 _Max?_

But I can see I'm scaring her now, so I ease back, nodding. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," I say.

"I'm fine," she says. Her cheeks flame. They look so red I feel like I can just place my hands on them and they'd sizzle or something. It's just so cute. I want to try, but instead I grab her arm, gently this time, and guide her until she's walking next to me. Vic and Kota are at my other side, and we start again, an unspoken agreement between the three of us to go at a slower pace so she can keep up.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"We're going to get fitted for some new suits," says Vic.

"All of you?"

We nod.

Her nose wrinkles slightly, and I have to stop myself from laughing at the face she makes.

"Are these school clothes?"

 _Uh . . ._ I glance at Victor, and see the look in his eyes telling me Sang doesn't know about the Academy. I shove my hands in my pocket, waiting for someone else to say something.

Kota does. "Sort of. Just for the nicer events. We thought it'd be easier to get it done now instead of when all those formal dances start happening."

 _Formal dances?_ Oh yeah. Public schools had those. Now that I think about it, maybe I can ask Sang to one if I get the chance—no, I'll take the chance.

The thought makes me grin wide, which earns me a curious look from Vic. I merely shrug. If he hasn't gotten the idea to ask Sang out yet, I sure wasn't gonna give it to him. Finders keepers.

When we arrive at the Armani store Kota and an attendant start to talk. I step in front of Sang, leaning my head slightly down towards her. "Did you want to go look around somewhere else?" I ask. Waiting around in a men's apparel store has to be boring for her.

But Sang looks at me funny, and I'm still trying to figure out the expression on her face when Victor interrupts.

"Have her stay," he says. I turn to him, but Vic was still looking at Sang. "There's usually a couch or something around here."

"I don't want her to get bored," I say.

"She won't be bored." Victor steps closer to her.

"Do you have a phone on you?"

Sang shakes her head, blushing again.

I think Vic almost looks happy. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "See, Silas? If she walked off, we would have had to hunt her down. I don't want to lose her."

Huh. He has a point. Good thinking, Vic. But I'm kinda peeved that I didn't think of it. I turn to Victor again, and see the look in his eyes.

Yep. I'm definitely gonna hound him.

I manage to meet Sang's eye one last time before leaving and give her a tentative smile, trying to convey that I'm glad she's staying after all. I don't know if she understands before I'm forced to turn around and follow the attendant towards the back along with Victor and Kota.

"So?" I say, to no one in particular as we get situated in the changing room with our individual suits.

"So, what?" Vic shouts from the next stall over.

"So what do you think of Sang?"

The sound of clothes shuffling can be heard for a while. I stay quiet, wanting to hear what my other two Academy brothers think—they're the ones who brought Sang, after all—before I offer my own opinion. In the meantime, I try on the suit.

Glaring at myself in the mirror, I pull and twist different sides or my body, attempting to make myself comfortable. This is why I hate formal clothes. None seem to ever fit properly. Or, even if they do, they always look and feel just too fucking tight.

On second thought, I might've filled out a bit over the summer working all day at the beach.

"I don't know about this."

I nearly trip on the damned suit.

" _What!_ " Vic comes out of his stall about the same time I do. Both our clothes are back on, but Kota's still wearing his suit. We both stare at him, and I glance over and see Vic with the most comical expression on his face. He looks as confused as I feel, but him even more so, and I have to hold in my laughter so I can ask Kota what the fuck he meant.

"What do you mean you _don't know?!_ " Vic exclaims.

Now Kota looks confused.

"What? I don't know if this suit would go better with a white shirt or black."

Oh.

Vic sputters, although I sigh in relief.

So that's what he meant. Fuck, I was just about to turn him upside down or something and demand an answer. I thought he was talking about Sang, and that he "didn't know" what to do about her. I did ask the question right before, but he was just talking about his damned suit.

I turn to Vic, and this time, I can't hold it in anymore. I start roaring. From the look on his face, I assume Victor also thought Kota meant Sang, and not his suit.

Vic's face turns the deepest fucking red I've ever seen.

Which only makes me laugh harder.

Kota still looks confused, but he starts smiling too, until finally muttering something about going to Sang for "fashion advice" or some shit and leaving the two of us.

I raise my eyebrows at Victor. His face is still red.

"So?"

"Shut up."

I raise my hands innocently. "What? I didn't say anything."

"Silas."

"Victor." I grin. By his strong reaction, I assume he wants to keep Sang around just as long as I do. I can't help but keep prodding him. It's just too fucking hilarious.

"Vic."

He grunts. Crosses his arms, waiting for Kota to come back.

"When Sang bumped into you earlier—"

"Shut _up_ , Silas."

I snicker.

By the time Kota returns Victor's called the attendant and told them the proper measurements. I tell the guy that the shoulders need to be loosened out, as well the sides. He nods, writes some things down, before leaving us.

"Come on, Sang's waiting for us back there," says Kota before walking away.

I turn to nudge Victor but before I could he gives me a sharp glare. "Don't even think about it."

We find Sang still sitting on the couch where we left her, engrossed with something on Vic's phone.

"Hey, you," he says, coming up to a stop front of her. Sang stands up quickly, pink lips tilting up just shy of a smile. She hands him the phone back. Vic glances at it before shoving it into his back pocket. "You're quick. And all three stars."

Yeah, lay it on thick, Victor.

"I didn't ruin your game, did I?'

Vic shakes his head vigorously. "No."

I can't resist anymore. "He's just twitter-pated," I say.

Vic punches me in the arm. "Shut up or I'm leaving you here." It would still be worth it to see the current look on Victor's face. Fuck if I've seen something like that before.

Being around Sang is gonna be a lot more fun than I could've imagined.

6


	4. Gabriel

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. *cries***

Gabriel

 _New friend in the group. Problems at home. Will go to the public school with us. Blackbourne and Doc don't know Keep it to yourselves._

I stare at Kota's text again, wondering for the thousandth fucking time what the hell he meant. He was unusually vague. Who the fuck was this "new friend" Kota was talking about? And why didn't he want to tell Blackbourne and Doc about it? That's so fucking weird.

"Hurry up!"

I startle and almost drop my phone. Vic's parked in front of the trailer. He's poking his head of his window now, grinning and tapping his arm against the stupid door of his stupid fucking car.

"Pipe down, I'm coming," I shout. I stomp down the stairs of the trailer and slam the passenger door shut on my way in. Victor doesn't even bat an eyelash as he starts pulling out.

"So what's this fucking vague-ass text about?" I ask, just as we're getting on the highway.

"Sang."

" _Sang?_ Who the hell is _Sang?_ "

"She's a girl."

For someone who's got no patience to speak of, Vic sure likes to test my own levels. I wait a while, knowing he'll tire of his stupid games.

Vic starts spewing. "She's adorable. And sweet. Really sweet. She likes classical music—her favorite's Winter by Vivaldi, can you believe it—"

No, I sure as fucking hell don't. Anyone who likes the same music Vic does—I gotta see this myself.

"...And she has these eyes, green, but I don't think I've ever seen a color like that before. They're amazing. She lives in Kota's neighborhood, that gray two-story with the basketball court? That one. And she's shy. But sweet. Really sweet. She's also really small. Looked ten or something when I first saw her—confused the shit out of me." He pauses for a chuckle.

I give him a bland stare. "You done?"

Vic shakes his head. "You don't get it—wait until you meet her. We're going to Kota's house for a meeting. I think Kota wants us to become friends with her. She stayed over his house two nights ago..."

I tune him out after he says that, trying to imagine what this girl Sang looks like. Small. Shy. Sweet. Nice eyes. I don't even think Vic said what color they are. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye—the moron's off in his own place. He's not gonna listen to a thing I say.

But something else bugs me. Sang stayed over at Kota's house? _Overnight?_

"Hold on."

Vic jabbers on.

"Oy!" The car jerks, and my head propels forward. "Fucking shit!"

"Hey, you're the one who shouted at me." Victor resumes his normal speed, then glances towards me. "What?"

"Did you say Sang slept over at Kota's? In his bed?"

"Uh-huh."

"What the fuck?"

"Kota wouldn't tell me all of it—I guess that's why we're meeting today at his place, to talk about it. But basically she's having some issues at home, so Kota offered her to stay over for the night, and she agreed."

"She just agreed? Just like that?" I gape at him.

Vic gives a single nod. Then the side of his mouth quirks up. "I told you, she's different. Not like any other girl I've met. Yesterday at the mall she wouldn't accept my offer of paying for lunch at first. Can you believe it? I don't even think she knows who I am." He sounds oddly happy about this.

It makes me think. Well, she's definitely new to the state, so maybe she's heard some mention of the Morgan family, but didn't realize at first or something. Christ. I hope for Vic's sake she's not playing him or something. I really gotta see her for myself.

We finally reach Kota's and pull up into the driveway. Before Vic's even done cutting the engine I'm out of the car, bounding up the front steps. Kota opens the door and motions us in quickly.

Victor's impatient as always, and doesn't wait for Kota before he goes bounding up the stairs. Kota and I share a smirk. He rolls his eyes, and then follows after him. I'm the last to go. I hear the other guys as I stand at the landing.

Then I walk in with all the air of haughty Brit royals. I push the hair out of my face, then see her sitting beside Nathan.

 _Jesus H. Christ._

The first thing I notice is the brownish-yellow crow's nest on her head. I think it's hair, but right now looks like a mop—a dirty mop. Or pig's slop.

And her clothes. _What the fuck is she wearing?!_ It makes me want to rip out my hair. Or hers. Actually hers. And her clothes. They don't even fit her right. Vic's delusional. He must be. Or I heard him wrong, because there's no way he was talking about this girl being any kind of "adorable."

But her eyes are the same sort that he was describing in the car. They're this wild green. Can't even pinpoint the shade—pear? Pine? Lime?—but it makes them totally alluring. And now they're looking at me, shit! I'm suddenly wondering what she's thinking. She's an open fucking book. Those eyes tell me she's curious, but wary. So I jump in with my usual snark.

"Oy! So you're the troublemaker." I grin wide.

Sang's whole face flames.

And then Vic moves to chop me upside the head, but I dodge. "Don't pick on her," he says.

"Hey, I was only teasing." I go to sit next to her, warming my smile. Her face is still red, but slowly resuming its normal pale tone. "I didn't mean anything by it. Don't listen to me, okay?" I add. Her enormous eyes widen even more, but she doesn't say anything.

Then Nathan speaks up. "We need to be more careful around her parents."

"I think that's why we need to talk about," says Kota as he turns to Sang. "Tell us what we need to do."

I swivel my head around to face her, waiting to hear what she has to say.

"I'm not sure where to start," she whispers.

I hold back the urge to grab her and demand some fucking answers right fucking yesterday. Instead I turn to the other guys, reading the looks in Kota's and Nathan's eyes. They know something, but they don't want to talk about it. Not in front of Sang, at least.

"What should we have to do if we wanted to come over? Let's start with that," says Kota. Sang looks about to respond when all of us freeze at the sound of a basketball being bounced around outside. Nathan jumps to the window.

"It's Derrick."

We clamber over each other to go the window.

"Where's he going?" Nathan asks.

That's what I'm wondering. But more than that, I want to know what Sang was going to say before Derrick interrupted with his ball.

Kota says something that I miss, but when I turn to look I see him holding on to Sang's hand. "Did you meet him? Is he going to ask for you?" he says. Sang shakes her head. She looks terrified. _Terrified._ Like some goddamn catastrophe is gonna happen. "I've never see him before," she says.

I turn back to the window. Vic's fingers start tapping against the sill. I put a hand on his arm and he stills. Derrick reappears from the gray two-story, a girl about our age trailing after him.

"Looks okay to me," says Nathan. "Maybe we should go over."

"Wait a minute."

I'm still watching the window, so I notice the other girl pause, turn her head towards the house again, before running back inside. Derrick collects his basketball and returns home.

"What happened? Was it your mom?"

Now I turn to her, waiting to hear what she has to say.

Sang nods. "She called to them at the door." Then her voice changes, just slightly. "'You should go home. She has chores to do,'" she finishes with a rasp.

"Do you have chores?" I ask.

Sang shakes her head, and her whole teensy frame shivers. Like she's cold or something. "I don't know what will happen to her," she says quietly.

That sounds bad. Really fucking bad.

I get flashes of my own family, those drunken nights Dad would come home and just start beating on us for no reason. Ma never knew what'd happen to us, either.

 _Not now, Gabe!_ I pinch my eyes shut for half a sec, take a breath. The past isn't worth digging up, not now when Sang's got her own troubles going on at home. The Academy took care of mine for the most part. Kota was right. We have to help this girl, find out more.

Vic flops down on Kota's bed. "I don't like this," he groans.

The rest of us spread out again in Kota's room, but Sang stays on the window seat, her face glued to the view outside. With the way she's turned and her quiet voice, I almost miss her next words.

"It's her way of keeping control."

That's it, I'm done waiting. I need to fix her hair first. I sit on the bed near Vic, patting the floor below. "Come here," I call, "your hair is bugging me. Kota, do you have a brush?"

And clothes. But I keep that to myself. One thing at a time.

Kota disappears and reappears from his bathroom holding a hairbrush that he throws my way. I point to Sang. "Come on."

Sang's stiff as she walks over silently. She takes off her clip, and the ugly mess on her head falls to her neck.

Ugh.

"And what do you call this look? Wet shag?" I can't help but tease. I tug at the clumps and knots. And then I feel Vic's toes on my back.

"Leave her alone."

 _Geez. I'm trying to loosen her up, can't the moron fucking tell?_

"Hey I'm fixing it!" I snap. I smooth out the strands. "I'm going to de-tangle it, but we're going to wash it out and then dry it."

"It's my fault," Nathan pipes in. "I pushed her into the pool."

 _Huh?_

"What happened?" says Kota.

I brush and de-tangle the knots in Sang's hair while everyone listens to Nathan's story of how they met in the woods, how they went swimming and then met up with Kota and all of us. I'm only half-listening; in my element as I hum Elvis Presley in my head while brushing down Sang's hair. Now that the knots are gone and I'm up close, its color's starting to show. And it's fucking amazing. It's a pale blonde, but there's red in there, too, and darker hues of browns and lighter golds and oranges in between.

Sometime while they're talking I catch Kota's eye. He gives a brief nod.

That's it. Now's the time. I have to find some way to get her alone, away from the other guys so they can talk. Kota'll fill me in later.

"Your color is amazing," I say. "How is it so many different colors?"

"It's like a dirty blonde or something."

"Or something is right," I reply. "There's a little red in there. Various shades of blonde. It's crazy." I nudge her shoulder, an idea forming. "Let's go wash it. I want to blow dry it and see how it looks."

Sang gets up, not fast enough for my taste. Impatient, I grab her arm and push her towards the bathroom. I shut the door and immediately go to Kota's shower to take out the shampoo and condition. "These aren't ideal for you but it's what we have right now," I tell her. I make a motion with my hands to get her to put her head down on the sink, then pat her on the hip lightly. Sang's still just standing there with a slightly dazed look on her face, like she doesn't know what to do. It's kind of cute.

And I'm having fun. Way more fun than with the guys. They're never this patient, and I never had an actual girl to work with.

"Let's get to work," I say. Sang blushes. Again. Christ Almighty this girl turns red faster than a fucking sunburn. She moves forward, tilting her head down to the sink. I stand beside her, playing with the knobs to set the water temperature. "Tell me when you think it's okay."

Sang reaches out a hand, waits, then nods.

"Good. Get in."

The guys' voices can be heard over the low din of water. They're discussing what to do about Sang, how to approach her home situation, whether or not to tell the Doc and Blackbourne. Arguing. I feel Sang stiffen beside me and know she's trying to listen.

Can't have that. Might as take my chance now to get to know her more.

"You're going to our school, aren't you?" Starting simple.

"Yes."

"We'll be in the same grade. Going to sign up for art class?" _Say yes say yes say yes._

But it draws a laugh out of Sang instead, her head shaking underneath my fingers. "I can't draw," she says.

"Neither can I," I quip. "I hear you just show up and play with paint. There's not much to it." Actually, I'm hoping it'll give me some more time to work on shit. Lately I haven't had any time at all with all these motherfucking missions left and right.

"So you want an easy grade?" asks Sang.

"They don't offer the classes I want to take."

"What do you want to take?"

"I wouldn't mind learning bass," I say, as I finish lathering the last bit of shampoo from my hands into her hair. I push her head down farther towards the water. "I already play guitar. There's one class at—" _Motherfucker I almost said, at the Academy!_ "—at um, another school," I finish lamely.

"Another school?"

Goddamn my mouth. "Just one of the private schools."

"Are you considering going to the private school next year?"

I can't tell her anything, but the way she's suddenly questioning me makes me want to spill my whole fucking life story. Man, this blows. To distract myself, I reach for the condition and start working that in her hair. "Might," I finally reply.

"Is there a requirement to get in?"

I pause. "There's always a requirement for a private school, sweetie."

Sang stiffens again. _Damn it, what'd I say?_ She was just beginning to loosen up, ask questions. But before I can frantically backtrack, she speaks up softly. "So it means you won't be going to my school if you go to the private one."

She sounds almost sad. I instantly decide I hate that sound. I try another tactic, changing the subject quickly. "Maybe. Victor's so mean, isn't he? Did you see him kick me? I was trying to be nice and fix your hair and he's kicking me."

"He's not so bad," Sang replies.

"No, he isn't bad. He's just a pain in the ass, sometimes." I finish up and then dunk her head into the water to rinse off the conditioner. Then I hand her a towel and then take out the bins from under the cabinet.

Sang says something else while I'm occupied and I miss it. She swallows, and then whispers. "I mean, how did you meet Kota? And Victor? When did you all become friends?"

I pull out the hairdryer. Next time I'm buying Kota a new hairdryer. This one's so fucking old. And then I turn to her, snapping my fingers and pointing to the toilet seat.

"I met them all in kindergarten. We went to the same elementary school. Everyone but Silas and North."

"Who's North?" It's a little hard to hear her over the noise.

"Another one the guys. There's me, Kota, Victor, Nathan, Silas, North and Luke."

"Who's Luke?"

Damn this fucking girl and her endless questions. But I'm enjoying this, maybe just a bit, and find myself smiling when I reply, "North's brother. You see, everyone except North and Silas grew up together. Silas didn't move here until maybe when we were ten. North came about a year later."

"Where was North?"

"He was living with his dad in Europe. They live with their uncle now."

"Do they stop by here often?"

"You'll see them sometime." I reach for the hairbrush again and start brushing out the strands while working the dryer through them, curling the strands a little around my fingertips. They feel soft, incredibly soft and silky. And the color's starting to shine through better. "Your hair is soft. I was right about the color, too. It's chameleon.

"Huh?"

"Changes color depending on the light." I place the brush in a drawer and toss the dryer under the sink. I curl my fingers at her. "Come here, step in front of me."

Sang does so, and I step behind her, playing around with her hair. Now I see what Victor was getting at in the car, and I think how fucking wrong he was. Sang's not adorable—she's fucking gorgeous. Now with her hair properly dried and set with those wild emerald eyes. I barely have any words.

"You're stunning." The words tumble out of me, unintended, in a whisper.

Her cheeks turn red again, and I can see it in the mirror, the beautiful stain of scarlet spreading across her cheekbones and down.

"Don't be embarrassed," I say. "You can't be embarrassed by the truth. Look at that cute nose you have. You know what? It doesn't even matter when you blush. That's just nature's makeup. Heavy makeup looks like shit on a girl. You don't need it."

Sang's eyes grow wider and wider and impossibly larger, and I think she'll burst into flames any second. But she's still not saying anything. By now she should be telling me to shut up or asking for more compliments. This girl's different. Vic was right. And I like it. I like her.

I purse my lips, wondering at something else. "I want to ask you something personal and I want you to be honest with me. You've never had a boyfriend, have you?"

Sang blinks several times, and for a second I think she'll say yes when she shakes her head, her lips opening in an 'o'.

"I didn't think so."

She makes a face at me, and I have to hold back my laughter. "You think I'm naive?"

"Innocent," I correct her softly. She's definitely clever, but not obnoxious. I lift a lock of her hair with a finger, curling it around and around. I can't help myself. "I've been flirting with you this whole time and you haven't once told me to shut the fuck up or do that stupid thing girls do when they want another compliment."

Her mouth opens in surprise again. "Should I tell you to . . . back off?"

 _God no._ I don't know how to tell her, so I sing instead. "Sang, heart on your sleeve. You watch out, I'm going to steal your heart." I stop, looking at her expectantly. She still doesn't say anything. She looks kind of awed, dazed. Still that adorable shade of red. Beaming, I turn and make a shooing motion.

"Let's get you out into the sunlight and see what your hair looks like," I say. She follows silently after me out of the bathroom. As we approach the guys, I side step to reveal her behind me, holding out my hands with a flair. "See guys, this is how hair should look."

I watch for their reaction.

I'm not disappointed.

The guys all turn as one. Jaws drop. Kota stops typing whatever the fuck he's typing. Nathan almost drops his phone. I chuckle inwardly.

"Did you change the color?" Kota asks.

"I didn't do shit," I reply. "I washed it and then blow dried it out. That's all her."

"You just keep it tied back in that clip. That's why it looks different now," says Victor.

"It gets in the way when I'm busy," replies Sang. She tucks a lock behind her ear.

Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh. She can do so much more with her hair! It frustrates the fuck out of me. "Just wait until I get my scissors," I cry, making snipping motions with my hand. Then I can't help myself, and run my fingers through her silky golden strands again. "I can give it some depth."

"I don't think I should. My parents will notice."

 _Oh, yeah._ I make a face. "Your parents are a complication."

"We're working on that," Kota pipes in. Sang turns to him, eyes wide, blinking.

"I..." she swallows, winces. I notice and lean in, whispering into her ear.

"Just whisper it to me. I'll tell them."

As she faces her lips towards my ears, I'm suddenly itchy. Itching. She smells incredible. Feminine. Soft. I want to get to know her better, know every fucking detail about her and her life and her family and her friends before she moved here. She must've had a lot of friends. She's fucking gorgeous and too damn sweet not to. But no boyfriends. Was it cause she's shy? I want to know.

And as I look around the room, I realize so do the other guys. They want to know her. Become friends. Maybe more. I ignore the twinge that starts inside me, turning back to her with a smile. What the fuck ever. We'll stay friends. For a long time.

 **A/N: Hi all! Well, here's the next chapter. I hope it met (exceeded) your expectations. And if it didn't, TELL ME WHY. Seriously. I love a well-constructed critique, no matter how negative. I appreciate some good 'ole brutal honesty. Any review at all indicates to me that y'all are reading and reacting, which makes my little writer's heart bloom with pride. So help me bloom! Sorry my updates take so long. I just started working full time so I'll write whenever I get time - namely on my morning commute if I'm not too zombified from sleepiness - or sometimes late at night when the creative juices flow best. (Is that like a writer's thing? Because I swear any writer I hear about they do their best writing at night or something like that). But also there's the problem that I've never written from a guy's POV before I started on this project, so I have to really screw my brain to come up with a guy's voices that's not only real, but also loyal to how C.L portrays the boys in her books. So I have my work cut out for me, basically. Hence why. REVIEWS! Help. A. LOT. Please and thanks!**

 **P.S. If any of YOU would like me to specifically read/review any of your pieces, I'm more than happy to. Just msg me the link or even write it in the reviews section on any of these chapters. K, bye! Till next time! :D**


	5. Luke

**Disclaimer: I (still) own nothing. Darn.**

Luke

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, pulling off my shirt while holding the phone between my head and ear as I climb in. Uncle and North haven't returned yet—they're probably still at the church. Uncle said he wanted to get a better idea for the kitchen plan before North and I go there again tomorrow to do some cleaning up.

Meanwhile, I text Gabe about this new girl Sang.

The screen alights. Gabe's calling.

"Hey."

There's some kind of shuffling going on on the other end, so I can't make out Gabe's reply.

"Dude. What are you doing?"

"Hold—on!" Something crashes.

"Why'd you call if you're busy?"

"Got your text. And I'm not busy goddammit! Have some fucking patience. Geez." A minute later: "Okay, okay, I'm all good. What's up?"

"I got Sang's text so I wanted to talk to you about it."

Gabe huffs. "Seriously? That's what you called me for? Just text her back if you're so curious!"

"But what's she like? C'mon man, you met her today. What's she look like? What's she sound like? What's her favorite food? Does she like desserts? Is she sweet?"

"Calm the fuck down for chrissakes', it's just a goddamn girl!"

"Gaaaaabe."

"Ugh. Fine. She's ugly. Like, really ugly. Like super fucking ugly. There. Happy? So she probably won't catch your eye, anyway."

That can't be true. Gabe would never call anyone ugly—specially not a girl. He's definitely messing with me.

"Gabe, seriously."

"What? I fucking told you already. She's not much to look at it, don't know why everyone's gotten themselves so hyped. She lives in Kota's neighborhood, the gray two-story. Doesn't say much, either. That's about it."

"Gee thanks. You're no help at all."

"Good night to you, too."

I stare at the blank screen, then decide I need a snack. I turn to my bedside and pull out a bag of chips, munching as I ponder. Gabe barely said anything, so I still don't know much about this girl Sang. Or what she looks like. Is she really that ugly? She can't be, or at least, Gabe wouldn't ever say that. Would he? Damn. I just don't know.

I pick up my phone again, hovering over the keys, then finally send out a short, "hi".

The reply comes back quick: _Hello._

Hello? What's that all about? I decide to just go ahead and introduce myself.

Luke: _I'm Lucian but everyone calls me Luke. You're Sang, right? Where did you move from?_

Sang: _I'm from up north. The south is different._

Different? Different bad or different good? I want to ask, but I don't want to come off nosy from the start. I'll probably scare her. I decide on something neutral.

Luke: _It's warmer, but it's probably the same._

Sang: _There's also palm trees._

That makes me smile. I type out: _LOL._

Sang: _Are you coming over tomorrow? Kota mentioned it._

Luke: _Yeah, in the morning, I think._

Sang: _What's the big announcement?_

So Kota told her that we had a big announcement. I drum my fingers over the screen, debating on if I should tell her or not. I wonder if she can keep a secret. I ask her for a promise.

Sang: _I promise._

Luke: _Pinkie swear?_

Sang: _How can I pinkie swear if I'm not there to shake your pinkie?_

What did Gabe say? That Sang "doesn't say much"? Now I know he lied. What else was that fucker lying about, argh. I send her back a picture message with my pinkie curled. A minute or so later, I see her own pinkie. I examine the picture closely, suddenly curious. Her hands are tiny. So small I think I can cover both of them with my one hand. The thought brings another. Could I ask her to send me a picture of herself?

But no. That'd be rude, probably. She doesn't know me yet.

Instead I comment on the book in the picture.

Luke: _There's a book in the picture. Is that Grimm's Fairy Tales?_

Sang: _Yes._

I ask about her favorite, and she says it's The Princess in Disguise. I wonder why, but before I can ask, she mentions the announcement again. So I tell her we're buying the church on her block.

Sang: _What? Why?_

Luke: _We're opening a diner._

I put the phone down then, closing my eyes. Talking to Sang just made me more curious to know her. I imagine what she looks like—smallish, maybe, given the size of her hands. Short hair? Curly? Wavy? I fall asleep dreaming of tiny humanoid pixies with small hands and dark eyes.

Morning comes and my stomach growls. Chocolate chip pancakes drowning in maple syrup sound pretty damn good right about now. Mmmm.

"Luke!"

I startle. North's standing behind me in the hall, arms crossed. "We're taking my bike. Let's go see the church."

"But what about breakfast?" I whine.

"Later," he growls. I huff but follow him out. When we arrive, the place looks deserted. I clamber off. "I'm gonna go park the bike, then we'll meet up inside."

"Fine."

I walk around the front slowly, watching. Imagining our diner, full of people. And the guys and I working. I can already smell the pastries baking in the oven, a big pot of beef chili simmering on the stove, tubs and tubs of ice cream waiting to be devoured in the fridge.

I _really_ want chocolate chip pancakes right now.

Damn North and his stupid rush to get here. Making my way closer to the front of the church, I sit on a boulder and take out my phone, scrolling through Sang's texts from last night. I hope we're done early so we can go meet this girl. I'm dying to know what she's like, how she looks, and to disprove Gabe. I bet she's pretty. I bet she'll be amazing, and she'll love the diner idea. I hope she does. It'd be so nice to get a girl's thoughts on the design. And she seemed pretty chill last night. Funny, too.

Somewhere behind me comes the noise of shuffling footsteps, and I turn to see a girl making her way up the dirt path to the church, then head towards the jungle gym. As she approaches closer, I see her clearly. She has pale blonde hair twisted up into a clip, a few locks falling down and framing a sweet face. She's pretty, really pretty. Bit on the small side. I walk a little closer, staying just of view, silently watching. She heaves herself up onto the landing and then stares out at the building, pale legs dangling almost absentmindedly.

I wonder what she's doing here. And then I wonder if she's Sang. I suddenly get an idea and pull out my phone, sending her quick text while keeping my eyes on her form.

My hands fist of their own accord when she pulls out her phone and types a reply, and I glance down at my own phone that I'm now clutching tightly in my hands.

Sang: _Chocolate chip pancakes._

I think I just fell in love.

If love is this spiraling, ecstatic rush, the same rush that I get from a sugar-high, just from hearing that the girl on that jungle gym likes the same breakfast I do, then I am definitely in love. I take a deep breath, and make my way over.

"With syrup?" I ask aloud.

Sang jumps, almost falling off the ledge as she twists around. She rights herself and clutches onto a pole, looking at me with wide eyes, green as emeralds and larger than I've ever seen on anyone before, rosebud lips parting in surprise. I have the inexplicable urge to kiss them.

She swallows, then says quietly, "Luke?"

Oh my god I am in love.

I give her a gentleman's bow, grinning. "In the flesh," I tell her. Then I jump, holding myself up from a rung on the monkey bars to hang from it. "What do you think?" I ask her, "can you see it as a diner?"

Sang looks out again towards the church. "I think it depends on what the inside looks like."

"Not judging by the cover, huh?" I cross the monkey bars until I can stand on the platform where she's at and jump on it. "We have to get rid of the playground, though. Insurance would kill us if we kept it."

"That's a shame," she says. "Would have been a good way to bring in parents with kids."

She and I think alike. Exactly alike. I'm almost jittery when I answer her. "I know. It's going on fall now but I thought about setting up a patio up front. Improving the size of the garden a little, maybe?"

Sang pauses, and her eyes flicker side to side, as if she's thinking seriously. She turns towards the church again a few times, before looking back at me. "What made you guys want to start a diner?" she asks finally.

"It's what my uncle wants to do. He was working with a partner and the partner is kicking him out. So he's starting his own place."

"That's too bad," says Sang.

 _Huh?_

Sang must've realized my confusion, because her eyes widened, and she made some kind of waving motion with her hands, shaking her head. "I mean it's too bad that his partner wanted to split up. Were they friends?"

"I think when they started," I reply, shifting my feet. This conversation is getting close to Academy territory, and I don't want to lie to Sang, so I change subjects. "So you want to see it?"

Sang raises her brow. She looks so cute.

"The inside?" I prod.

She nods quickly. "Yes."

 _Yes!_ I jump down from the platform and reach out my hands, before turning to face her directly. I focus on her eyes. "Let's go," I say, hoping she understands. Sang reaches out, and I grab her hips and lift her up, then gently lower her down back on the ground. I lean in closer on pretense that I'm still holding for her to regain balance, even though she's standing fully upright and not moving. But I can't get away with it for too long, so then I release her.

I start walking towards the church, fishing the keys out of my pocket. I pushed the door open and held it for Sang before following her into the dark hallway. I try to reach for her hand, but she jumps.

"Here," I say, and reach for her hand again. It's soft, softer than I imagined it would be, and I want to keep holding her hand. "Stay behind me. I'm sorry; I don't know where the light switch is. It didn't seem that dark down here when we started."

I interlock my fingers with hers and continue leading us down the hall, searching for some source of light. Near the end of it I see some sunlight filtering through a window. Reluctantly I release Sang's hand to open the door to our right. The inside's even darker.

"Hold the door open," I tell her. "I'll find the switch." I leave her standing there while I feel my way across the room.

The old lights take a moment before flickering on.

"Well," I ask. "What do you think?"

"There's a lot of space for tables," says Sang, her gaze sweeping back and forth across the room before landing on me again.

"And this stage could be used for bands on some nights. It feels solid." I stomp on the wood to prove it. Sang moves, and I follow her with my eyes as she walks around the room, glancing around. Her lips part again slightly, and the urge to kiss her flares up again inside me, stronger this time. I force it down and instead come up to stand behind her. As soon she feels me against her back Sang freezes.

"Do you see it?" I whisper, leaning into her ear. I make my voice go soft, soothing, although at this moment I'm not sure exactly who I'm trying to calm more. Me and my pounding heart, or Sang.

Sang swallows, pauses, before speaking. "It just needs the right tables," she says without turning around.

"And the door over there could be the official entrance." I move to her side and point. "And the other, the entryway to the kitchen. We'll have to get rid of the podium."

"You should keep it. You could paint it and attach it to something so you could roll it in when you want to. You could rent the place out for meetings."

My eyes open wide, and I have to consciously stop myself from gaping at her. "I hadn't even thought of that."

"And I like the garden and outside dining area," she adds.

| make some sort of vague gesture with my hands, hoping she understands. This is good. This is really good. I can feel both of our excitement, this pulsing, alive thing between us, and it makes me want to bounce up and down like a five-year-old. I want to kiss her _so_ bad.

Instead I refocus on the conversation. "There could be a bar over there," I say, "a big one."

"And a case for pies and baked things you'd sell on the side."

"And a jukebox."

"With vases of flowers on the tables."

My breath catches, and I look at her fully. She has such a gorgeous imagination. I can already see us working on this diner together. I don't care if she's new or whatever. I'm so glad we met. I lean in, as close as I possibly dare, and whisper softly, "What's your favorite flower?"

She grins, and the effect stuns me momentarily. "I like roses. Chrysler Imperial."

"We'll have a rose garden out front. We'll be able to put roses out on the tables for most of the year."

That gets a laugh out of her. "What about when the roses die off in the winter?"

I shrug. "We'll light candles. Rose-scented ones." I look around, observing, before turning back to see her doing the same. She appears thoughtful, eyes roving over every surface, possibly dreaming of the same things I am. "You see it, don't you?" I ask her finally, bringing her eyes back to mine. Just for a moment, before her gaze drops somewhere else on my face. I'm beginning to notice that she doesn't meet my eyes directly, not for long anyways. She can keep up a conversation and smile and laugh, but whenever she looks at me her gaze instantly flits away. But the few moments that she did meet my gaze, I saw shadows. Dark shadows. Shadows of trouble, maybe still haunting her. I want to know more. I want her to tell me everything.

She nods. "It's beautiful," she says.

I grin ear to ear, full of something unnameable. Her approval sends shivers down all over me. "Let's go find the kitchen. I think it's through here." We walk across the chapel and out through another door. The hallway on this side is lit by a few windows. I walk slow, feeling her small hands on my back and not wanting them to go away. Desperately wishing for her to keep them there forever.

Finally I stop, reaching for the door to what'll be the kitchen. "There must be a breaker down," I tell her, "want to stay here? I think I know where it is."

She nods, and I hurry off inside.

I can't wait until I'm back by her side.

 **A/N: Hi everyone! To those of you who posted reviews most recently, thank you so much! They were so encouraging especially considering the fact that I was super scared about the "Gabriel" chapter, because I don't know his voice really well so I was wondering where to draw the line between him actually speaking and cursing, since that's part of his everyday vocab. But everyone's comments have been so sweet and nice, and have been encouraging me to write faster. So I did. And I hope you've all enjoyed my interpretation of Luke's feelings when meeting Sang. I pray I did him justice. He was fun to write because of his playful mannerisms, and I really enjoyed getting into his head and writing about food like every two seconds. Ha ha. I LOVE food. Any food. Sweet, salty, junk, good. Food is food. I believe everything in moderation. There's no harm in inhaling a cupcake every once in a while. I think I just did Luke proud with that sentence. Yay! *prances around with Luke amidst a cupcake shower***


	6. North

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

North

I can hear some sort of shuffling going on in the kitchen so I make my way over, wondering what the hell kind of mischief my shithead brother's gotten himself into now. Sometimes I feel like the older one. When I walk in I see someone standing on the counter below one of windows, pulling on the curtain.

Someone definitely not Luke, but probably just as idiotic.

Someone who also looks like a girl.

 _The fuck?_

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

She teeters on the edge of the countertop, arms flailing, the curtain pulling away and breaking off in her grasp as she starts to tilt over backwards. I shouldn't've startled her like that. I quickly come up from behind and grab her by the hips, stopping her motion briefly before picking her up and putting her down on the ground. She sways off-balance, blinking rapidly through the sun that's now directly on her face. It reflects off her eyes, making them look larger than an owl's. Her pale hair looks silver, spread about her face wildly, and her lips are parted.

Hell. What've I walked into?

Her eyes are wide—I see now that they're this brilliant shade of green—and they look terrified or surprised or both I don't fucking know. But I don't want her scared of me, whoever she is.

"Are you hurt?" My voice comes out deeper than I intended, gruff.

She shakes her head. Too quickly.

 _Shit._ Still scared.

I loosen my hold on her just a little and move until we're both in the light, so she can see me clearer, and try to ask her name.

"Who are you?"

Well fuck. Way to make her even more terrified.

"I'm . . ." Her voice squeaks. "I'm Sang."

 _Wait, what? Sang?_ As in the same "Sang" Si texted me about last night? The same "Sang" who texted me herself last night to save her number? _That_ same Sang?

I hope I'm not gaping at her, because I'm stunned, and I want to kill that fucker Silas for not telling me. What did he say? "We have a new friend in the group"? I thought it was just another dog we picked up dammit. We don't need another dog. But a _bird?_ That changes things. Significantly.

I refocus my gaze on her. "How did you get in here?" I ask.

"Luke let me in," she squeaks again.

I pause, considering. I really don't want her scared of me, but she's still not saying much, just staring at me, and all I can think is, she's pretty. Gorgeous, in fact. Even terrified she looks fucking gorgeous. And I'm fucking screwed. _Screwed._ Then the overhead lights turn on, and I glance up briefly before looking back down. I have to resist the urge to move closer right when she stretches her little neck up, before facing me.

"Sorry I scared you," I say. "I'm North."

"Luke's brother?"

She looks skeptical. Yeah, we're not biologically related, so we look nothing alike. "We're step brothers. We're still family," I add.

Which makes me wonder next how much she knows. And why she's with us in the first place. Why Kota picked her. This sweet girl. What can possibly be wrong with her to end up with our bunch of fuck ups?

Sang nods then, kind of vigorous. "No, I get it. I just . . . He told me about the diner. I think it'll be great."

 _Really?_ "My brother has unrealistic ideas." I turn around and walk towards the stove, bending over to check the inside. I feel Sang behind me, and my body stiffens almost instinctively, waiting.

"It could be fixed up," she says softly.

"It'll take a lot of work."

"But once it's done . . ."

I release the oven door and it closes with a loud bang. Sang yelps. Fuck I keep scaring her. "It might not work. Most restaurants fail within a year," I add.

She's silent for a time, and just as I think I've had her stumped she says, "A good one can stay open for a long time." Her slender hand plays along the base of her neck, and I follow them with my eyes, suddenly fascinated by fingers. "I suppose it depends on how good the food is."

 _What?_ She thinks I'm doubting my Uncle's cooking? "My uncle's the best," I reply.

"Then what are you worried about? People will taste how good it is and they'll love it. I mean, if you work hard and put your heard into it, who wouldn't love it?"

Who the fuck is this girl? And why aren't there more like her, I wonder. Her optimism's getting to me. If Luke said something like that, I'd punch out his lights as well as the moronic smug grin off his puppy face. But Sang's words make me hope, and it's dangerous and nice at the same time.

"Hey! You found her." Luke comes up behind Sang, and she turns. His gaze falls on the broken curtain. "What happened to the curtain?"

"She broke it," I say.

Sang turns red. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

I frown at her. I wasn't looking for an apology. She should be more worried of falling from that high up. "It's no big deal. Just be more careful next time," I assure her.

"I like it like that. I wouldn't want anything blocking the natural light."

My eyes flicker back and forth between Sang and my brother, and I notice that she's more at ease with him than with me. I don't know how to make her comfortable, and I desperately want to. Shit. I really _am_ screwed.

Sang's expression changes, and I only notice because I'm watching her closely as she pulls out her phone and glances down. "It's Kota. He's wondering if I can come over."

"We should go talk to him. There's not much else to do here. We'll have to start with cleaning it up."

"We need to take a few walls down. We probably should gut the place before we spend too much time sweeping the floor," I say.

Luke's face gets that toddler look like before he gets some idea, brilliant in his mind, always idiotic in mine. "Let's break some walls," he cries, pumping a fist. I can't hold back an eye roll as I follow him out, making sure Sang is close behind as we make our way out of the building. I stop at my bike standing parked on its side, the two of them beside me.

"Is that yours?" says Sang suddenly.

I lift a brow. "Uh huh," I manage. Fucking smooth.

And then my idiotic brother voices the worst idea ever. "Take her for a ride. I'll walk."

Little shit. I ought to pound him into the ground. I turn to Sang, and holy shit she's a fucking tomato. "What? You mean you'd let me?"

An uncomfortable itch begins at my neck, and I try to rub it off with a hand. "If you want . . ."

She's smiling. This wide, sappy-ass grin like someone just handed her the world on a plate studded with diamonds or something. It's contagious, and I feel a smirk coming.

Luke grins. "I'll turn the lights out and lock up." He veers off back towards the church, and then I'm left alone with Sang. I'm just about to climb up when another uneasy thought comes to mind.

"You'll hang to hang on to me," I hedge. Some hazy part of my brain's hoping she won't care. I want her to hold on to me.

"Is that bad?" Sang's confusion adds to my own. What kind of a question is that?

"I was just warning you," I try again.

"Why?"

 _Why?_ What the fuck does that mean, _why?_ I don't understand this girl at all. But she looks almost scared again, and that isn't what I want, so I shut up before I say something stupid and get on the bike instead. "Come on." I hold out a hand. I teach her how to get on the bike, and she drops her hand in mine. It's soft. Really fucking soft. And small. Tiny. Delicate. Like the rest of her.

Instantly I shut my mind down as she slips in behind me.

"Wrap your arms around my waist." Did my voice sound a little rough? I clear my throat, trying to do it quietly. Sang looks down, her face red as her arms wrap around me. Her palms press on my abdomen, and I have this inexplicable urge to feel her hands on my bare skin.

"Hang on." The bike roars to life, and her hands clutch a little tighter, her face tucked between my shoulder blade. We head out onto the road, and I try to focus on driving instead of on the girl behind me whose body molds perfectly against mine.

My mind wanders.

And suddenly her hands are falling away. I quickly move a hand away from the handle to grab one of hers, and clasp it tight as I press it flat on my chest. My body instinctively reacts, every muscle stiffening. Fuck. Her hands are soft. This was a bad idea. But I find I don't give a fuck.

Kota's driveway nears and I reluctantly release Sang's hand to make the turn. Then I cut the engine and lean back a ways.

"Swing your leg around to get it off." My voice comes out a throaty husk. Sang's warmth leaves my back and I turn my head to the side just in time to see her getting off, her skirt slipping up tight against her thighs.

 _Fuck._

I avert my eyes. I can't take much more of this. The expression on her face from the damn kitchen still floats in my vision.

Instead I climb off the bike. "You okay?" I ask her.

A blanket of scarlet diffuses across her cheeks, but her green eyes are shining. I've never seen anyone look so damn happy after a bike ride.

Then she says, "My legs are tingly."

 _Tingly._ I can't help a smirk. "Mine, too," I reply.

 **A/N: Here's North's take on meeting Sang, guys! He was a toughie to write, because while he acts like a total Grumpy Bear, he is actually a total softie underneath for those he cares about, and he cares A LOT about Sang, even though in the beginning he's (I think) trying really hard not to. But Sang's just too irresistible for her own damn good :D Anyways, I've been reading all the reviews as they come, and I'd like to thank each and every single one of my reviewers who make me so, so happy. Seriously. Like, I LOVE writing, but it makes my writing-happy heart even more ecstatic when you guys review. Reading each one - even criticisms, because at least you guys care enough in some way or another to leave a comment - is like my own personal mini dose of a happy pill. So thanks for all the encouragement, everyone! Till next time!**


	7. Dr Green

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Dr. Green

Good heavens, the hallway is atrocious. Even standing off to the side I have to consciously avoid the masses of students shoving their way through. My gaze scans the area, searching for my own rowdy crowd.

Silas and North's tall frames come into view, followed by the others standing nearby. They're all in a circle, heads together. But I count eight, not seven.

I frown and count them again.

Huh. Still eight. I go through their faces this time, putting numbers on them, and finally realize that the blond head in the middle is not one of mine. Then the head turns to say something to Kota and it's a girl.

A _girl?_ With _my_ boys? All of them?

Well this is interesting.

I can't make out much from here, but she seems a tad fidgety. And the guys are surrounding her, which is odd seeing as they've never shown interest in any girl all at once like this before. That alone piques my curiosity. Maybe a possible girlfriend? Then again, no one's mentioned anything, and we don't keep secrets.

The guys suddenly separate, and I keep my eyes on her, watching as Silas and Victor follow her to the registration line while the others veer off in different directions. My gaze remains on the back of her outfit while Silas and Victor wait off the side. And then there's another surge of students shifting and pushing about, and I see the two boys get separated from the girl as she runs smack into Vice Principle McCoy. He turns around with a not-so-happy look on his face.

 _Ouch._

I walk closer, unable to help my curiosity.

"No need to push," McCoy barks.

Then I see her clearly. Her tiny form. Her sweet, delicately-shaped face. Her eyes. They're almost the same shade as mine. Almost. But definitely prettier. Much prettier. They look like bottomless pits, and I feel like if I keep staring at them too long they'll suck me.

Maybe they already have.

She sweeps long lashes down, lips trembling. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," she whispers. "It's just so crowded in here."

McCoy grumbles something I can't make out, then steps back. It seems he's looking her over, and an unfamiliar sense of protectiveness rushes through me. "You also wear skirts that are too short," he says, and this time I manage to catch his words clearly. "What's your name?"

Her eyes widen even further. "I'm Sang," she says.

"Last name?"

"Sorenson."

It's tempting, this impulse to go inside my office and look her up in the system, try and find out what it is about her that have all the boys, all seven of them, interested in one girl. And maybe me, too.

When I return my attention to the two of them again Sang's standing with her jaw gaping, a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face. Then McCoy snatches the piece of paper in her hands away and sneers at it.

"Choir and typing. How typical."

Sang looks down, and I know she's trying not to cry even if I can't see as much from here. I have to go and help this girl. He's picking on her for no damn reason, and I want to meet her anyways. See what has the boys so involved.

My resolve only solidifies when McCoy adds, "I'll keep this. You tell your parents your clothes aren't appropriate. Go home and change and then come back."

It's time for me to step in. "Mr. McCoy," I call. They both turn towards me, and I smile, even though really I feel like shutting the man up with a few choice words—and then some—for picking on such a sweet girl. _Put that professional face on, Sean._

"I was just looking for you, Mr. McCoy." Then I can't help it, I glance down towards Sang. She's staring back with those eyes, my god those eyes, and I know instantly I'd do anything they asked of me before she even uttered a syllable. "I'm sorry," I continue, to keep up the niceties. "Am I interrupting?"

"No," McCoy humphs. "She's going home to change before she's allowed to register."

Sang's lip trembles, and I want to brush away the hurt. I look at her with kind eyes instead. "And what appears to be the problem?"

"Her skirt is too short."

"I believe the rule book states that a skirt must be as long as a lady's fingertips when she has her hands pressed to her sides." I turn to Sang again. "Miss, would you put your hands to your sides, please?" I'm doing it to appease McCoy, and I want to tell her that, so badly. But I can't, not right now. So instead I wait, patiently, smiling.

Sang snaps up ramrod-straight, and presses her hands to her sides, elbows hunching a tad. It's just too adorable, and I have to hold back a grin.

"It appears she's within regulation," I say. I can't keep the smugness off my voice.

"I don't think it's appropriate for her to wear it," McCoy argues.

"Maybe not, but that's not our judgement to make." This is getting tiresome. I decide to switch topics and swivel a bit. "Is that her registration?"

McCoy's jaw nearly drops. "Yes, but . . ."

"I don't see why we have to put the counselors through twice the work. They have enough to do today."

"You know you can't just walk in and take over how I handle these students, Dr. Green. She's not one of your boys." McCoy's hands are clenched at his side, and his neck looks about to bulge out. Definitely not healthy.

I adopt my placating doctor voice. "I believe we were brought in to assist in any way we can. I think we have enough to worry about with kids who have actually broken the rules than one girl who hasn't." I hand over the registration paper to Sang, who's glancing at me quite oddly now. I wonder what I said?

When McCoy leaves, I soften my voice. "I'll show you where to turn that in. You were just heading that way, weren't you?"

Sang's eyes are still wide, but she nods with little head-bobbing motions that make me want to giggle. I force down the childish urge and put a hand on her arm, guiding her down the hallway towards mine and Owen's offices. I want to see what he says about Sang. I still haven't figured out exactly why the guys were surrounding her, but maybe Owen can give me some insight.

And then I remember my manners, belatedly. "I should apologize for Mr. McCoy's behavior," I say, "I think he means well."

"He's pretty intimidating," Sang blurts out.

"I think that, too. But usually intimidating people feel the same way about us. I think a psychologist would say..." _What are you doing boring the poor girl?_ I quickly backtrack. "Well, er, something boring to young students, I'm sure."

"Something about the worst we see in others is what we actually see in ourselves?"

Whoa. Wasn't expecting that. "Well said."

And then Sang gets the most adorably impish look on her face, just for a split second. "I hope it doesn't mean Mr. McCoy dislikes my skirt because he doesn't look good in skirts."

The laughter bursts loudly out of me, my head rocking back as I put a hand to my forehead, unable to stop. Thanks to Sang, I'll always picture McCoy from now on in a skirt, and never take him seriously again. Ever. I voice these thoughts to her, making her smile.

We stop in front of the door leading to mine and Owen's offices. I bend down a bit then, and feel Sang stiffen as I button up her shirt collar to the top before smoothing it out. "And so you know," I say lightly, "if you wear a short skirt, you should keep your top modest. As a lady, it will make you look more elegant."

Sang doesn't say anything, simply stares at me. I know I might be baffling her, but this is for her sake and mine, though she doesn't know it. I've been planning to take her to Owen ever since I spotted her with the boys. But I didn't think I'd like her so much—too much at this point, maybe. I hope Owen approves, though. Right now, that's what I need most.

"Shall we go in?" I ask, holding the door open.

"Thank you. I don't mean to keep you."

God, she's too sweet.

"It's fine," I reply. "I was headed in this direction anyway." We walk past the secretaries before I turn to her again. "Why don't you come with me? I'll let you cut through this line."

Sang hesitates, gaze flickering nervously around. I want to hug her tight. But meeting Owen will have to do for now.

I hope he sees in her what I see.

 **A/N: READ THIS NOTE IT HAS IMPORTANT INFORMATION. Hello, hello! And I'm back again with another update - that was relatively fast, wouldn't you say? I think I'm getting the hang of this :D Anyways, continuing thanks to all who reviewed; your comments make me seriously SO happy. Like, so much. So. Much. Also, as I'm nearing the end of this story (sad/happy/bittersweet face) I'm thinking about other projects I want to do, and it seems a lot of you who've reviewed have requested more Academy fics from the boys' POV. Just letting you know beforehand that IF YOU ARE READING THIS VERY IMPORTANT NOTE, then you'll now be aware of the lovely fact that I AM planning to do all of the scenes that you've requested, in no particular order (as of yet, but we'll see) from the guys' POV. So it's up to y'all which scenes you want, and from whose perspective. Write them in your reviews, and I'll make a note of any and all requests. Sayonara!**

 **P.S. Have any of you guessed my favorite Academy boy yet? (Here's a hint for you then: he's not who I just wrote about, nor the one I have left to write. Out of the remaining seven, he's not one who's already been written by another, nor the two boys in the middle. He has no star, but he'll probably be the first to puzzle his way through this riddle!) So. Any guesses?**


	8. Mr Blackbourne

**Disclaimer: I own nothing *unsuccessfully tries knocking down door of patent office***

Mr. Blackbourne

The knock comes just as I've finished submitting the last of the Academy paperwork for our team's seamless transition into the public school system. I look up, expecting to find Dr. Green's grinning face as he opens the door. I'm not disappointed.

"Dr. Green, you don't have to knock. This is your office too, now."

"Sorry," he says, taking a seat on the desk across from mine. It's then that I notice the petite blonde standing a little ways behind him, hands clasped at the front, eyes wide.

"Old habit when I see a shut door." My attention snaps back to Dr. Green when he starts speaking again. "Besides, the offices here are so small. If anyone were standing behind the door, I'd hit them."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Dr. Green is perfectly aware of the fact that I never stand behind a door for that very reason. But I refocus my gaze upon the young lady still standing timidly near the doorway, her eyes never quite having left my face.

"What are you doing here?"

Dr. Green looks up and raises a hand. "Oh, this is Miss Sang Sorenson. Miss Sang, this is Mr. Blackbourne."

Her expression flickers, completely open for the world to read. It looks like the strangest thing, as if she knows of me or knows who I am. But that's impossible. Dr. Green probably just mentioned my name in passing while bringing her in.

Which returns me to the present. And her reasons for being here that I still remain unaware of, although judging by Dr. Green's expression, I can take an accurate guess.

"Hello," says Miss Sorenson, with a curt nod. Polite. Sweet. She's dressed nicely, nicer than the other students in a blouse and skirt.

"That's wonderful," I reply. "Now why are you here?"

"I am assisting her with getting registered," Dr. Green interrupts. He proffers his hand, reaching towards hers for the slip of paper she's holding. "Shall I help you?"

I cut my eyes at him. He shouldn't be hitting on a student.

"She should be outside with the other students," I tell him, before turning to her. "Couldn't you wait in line?"

"She's perfectly capable of doing so. But she had a run in with Mr. McCoy. I didn't want a good student to be scared away because of him."

I grunt a response. That man is indeed unpleasant. There is something about him that I don't like, but that is exactly the sort of thing we are here to find out, rather than strutting around finding cute girls to flirt with.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you." The quiet voice disrupts my flow of thoughts, and I swing my gaze over to Miss Sorenson again, watching her eyes turn downward. Dr. Green starts again, and I keep half a mind open to their conversation about classes and registration while I continue about my work.

Until I hear a very familiar name.

"Kota. A friend of mine."

Dr. Green is squinting at the piece of paper, and I watch, curious. He could be anyone, certainly, but Kota isn't a common name.

"Do you know Kota Lee?" I venture.

Miss Sorenson faces me, and everything is revealed in those unusually-colored depths. This girl is an open book like I've never seen. But underneath her awe and curiosity I begin to notice something else. Something darker lurking.

Then she speaks softly. "Dark brown hair? Glasses?"

Dr. Green meets my gaze. Our suspicions proved true. But why is Kota interested in this girl? As a girlfriend? I'm shocked he hasn't mentioned anything. And by the look on Dr. Green's face, I can tell he's also surprised, and just as ignorant as I am. He scribbles something down on the piece of paper before handing it back to the girl.

"Do you think you could handle this?"

Miss Sorenson's jaw drops open. It's—admittedly—adorable. "How do I bypass the restriction? And I'm not allowed in Japanese for at least another year."

 _She wants to take Japanese as an underclassman?_ I wonder.

Dr. Green props his head up with his hand on the desk, smiling broad. The girl clearly doesn't know yet that he is the new Japanese teacher. It seems she is about to find out, from the idiotic smirk on his face.

"But is that what you want?" he asks.

"I want to try."

So the girl likes a challenge. So do many other people. "Why are you causing trouble? You don't know anything about this girl," I ask. I don't mean to speak of her as if she's not in the room, but this needs to be sorted out now. Especially considering she somehow became "friends" with Kota while the two of us remained unaware.

Dr. Green shakes off my protest. "I have a good feeling. Besides, who is going to tell me no?"

Clearly that was directed at me.

I return to my paperwork while Dr. Green types away on his computer. Then I hear distinct tapping, in tune with the violin melody playing on my stereo.

Curious, I glance up. Miss Sorenson is moving her foot in perfect rhythm, almost as if she can predict the melody. Or she knows it already. "Do you know this song?"

"It's the song about the swallow, isn't it?" she says.

 _Well, well._ I raise a brow, more than a bit surprised, and nod.

"But it's the version by Micarelli, isn't it?"

"How do you know it's her?"

"Well, she's got this style. She plays soft. It's hard to explain, but it's different than other violinists. I really like it." Her eyes go soft, shadows disappearing for a moment as her voice becomes almost wistful. Her body sways slightly, in a way that makes it appear she doesn't realize she's doing it. In that instant, she is beautiful.

And suddenly I want to know more. "Do you like the violin?"

Miss Sorenson fiddles with her blouse button, biting her lip. "I do. I like the piano, too. I think if I had to pick just one to learn, though, the violin would be my first choice." She stares at me, all the while still tampering with that single button on her blouse. I tamp down the inexplicable urge to reach out and hold her hands still. _Who is this girl?_ I can see shadows lurking underneath her delicately pretty features, eyes full of answers waiting to be revealed, almost begging to be. If only someone asks.

I make a mental note to hound Dr. Green later, see if he knows more than I do even though I've already pretty much confirmed he hasn't. And why Kota is interested. Possibly as a girlfriend, but the situation calls for something more. Something deeper, perhaps. I don't know. And I need to.

I remain fixated upon her while I hold out a hand. "Would you kindly hand over Miss Sorenson's registration paper, Dr. Green."

Miss Sorenson's eyes widen, but Dr. Green looks pleased. I skim over the piece, all the while explaining that most students would have had a study hall. "It's worked into a student's schedule," I say, "but you won't have one."

Dr. Green stands, still with that knowing grin, and opens the door for Miss Sorenson. She makes to turn, then hesitates, facing me once more.

"Thank you," she whispers.

I feel my mouth moving up at the corner as I acknowledge it with a nod. Yes, I am definitely going to have a discussion with Dr. Green about this girl. And I look forward to seeing more of her in the coming weeks at our violin lessons. Though I doubt she realizes that it will only be the both of us alone playing.

That thought for some reason brings another smile to my lips.

Seems this will make for quite an interesting year.

 **A/N: We've reached the end, folks! *throws confetti* Phew, that was a bumpy journey. And, like every journey, I would like to thank all of my fellow fanfictioners out there who've so kindly posted reviews and been following this story with me until the end. Y'all inspired me to keep it up and actually finish, and for that I'm so, so grateful. I've learned a lot about writing from the opposite gender (surprise, guess what, I'm a girl), and also about our sexy Academy boys. Speaking of which, CONGRATULATIONS TO THE SINGLE ANONYMOUS USER WHO GUESSED CORRECTLY. Yes, my favorite is Victor. He's just so delicate. *swoon* But, I do love all the other ones, too. I just love Vic a tad bit more.**

 **Anyways, YOU GUYS GAVE ME SO MANY SCENES HOLY CRAP. No pressure, right? So this is certainly not the end of the Academy fanfics for you guys, since I am going to go back go through each and every single one of the scenes requested and see how well I can play around with them. Hopefully I can use what I've learned about the boys better in the next few fics to come. I haven't planned them out, since I literally just write and then post, so I don't know yet whether they'll be one-shots or longer pieces or what. So, be patient and bear with me, loyal fans! And I hope you enjoyed this last chapter. Mr. Blackbourne is certainly looking forward to the year. Boy, is he in for a long haul. Poor Mr. B, doesn't know what's coming his way. Till next time ;)**


	9. Kota

**Disclaimer: The wonderfully talented and creative genius C.L. Stone owns these characters. I am simply borrowing them for my own writing fantasies. No copyright infringement intended.**

Kota

Rain falls in sheets against the glass as I approach Sunnyvale Court. The storm has only gotten worse on the drive back, and I can barely see while slowly rolling the sedan forward. Gabe's been insisting on me to replace "the old as fuck machine" for a while now, but so long as it has four wheels and drives, fine by me.

A shadow flickers in my periphery. I step on the brakes, peering into the darkness with a frown. Is there something out there? In this rain? Or someone?

I don't like shadows.

A neighbor's garage is open, and the shadow seems to be hunched just beyond it. I flick off my headlights, but that only makes the darkness deeper and now I can no longer see anything clearly. Could've been a trick of the light. It's too dark to tell much of anything really. I park my car at the farthest corner of the driveway and climb out, standing just outside my door, watching, waiting. For what or whom though, I have no idea. The house with the open garage is where the new family moved in just a few weeks back. A family of four, although I've only ever seen the father and one of the daughters come out since.

Mainly it's the daughter I've caught glimpses of when she often went out walking in the woods. The beautiful daughter with the largest pair of eyes I've ever seen, in a shade of the brightest green. I find myself worrying about her. They don't have a security system set up in that house yet, and if someone were to break in…

The moments drag on by, and I suddenly notice I'm getting soaked. I look to the house again, but there's nothing there anymore.

I _really_ don't like shadows.

For her sake, I hope there's no one there. I finally open the garage door to my own house, letting Max out of his crate and forcing myself to head inside. Max yips, and I shush him so as not to wake Mom or Jessica. He sniffs along the floor of the dark hall before giving a single bark and giving a nudge against my leg. I open the door to my bedroom and he scampers up the stairs to wait at the top step. I figure I have some time to let him out a bit before I sleep. Max curls up at the foot of my bed while I sit and take off my sneakers. The back of my neck still prickles with the wrongness of the air. I can't stop thinking about that shadow I saw, almost like a person standing hunched on the family's driveway.

I move to the window, maybe to assuage my fears, but something still feels off, and my instincts are right nearly a hundred percent of the time. My gaze rakes over the expanse of the street, squinting through the splatters of rainwater on the windowpane. Then it inevitably moves to again study the house up the street.

And I pause, unsure of what exactly I'm seeing as my eyes adjust.

The shadow is back, only this time it's on the move towards the street. It's still at the two-story gray house, gradually making its way across the expanse of driveway. A hump in the distinct shape of a book bag protrudes from its back. Smallish figure.

I simply stare a moment. I'm not entirely positive, but I have a sense it's the daughter of that new family.

"What in the world…" I stop short, breathe in and hold, as if the girl down the road can hear me. I continue to study her, trying to make absolutely certain.

 _Is it really?_

Yes. She has such a small frame, and the height is hers. And the way she's walking, head down, not once looking up or around. She stops at the street and waits. At first I wonder if someone is about to pick her up. But for some reason I don't think that's the case.

For the past few weeks she always snuck out the back door, dashed to the woods behind her house and walked the trails. I know because I spotted her a few times. I've tried approaching her on numerous occasions, hoping to 'accidentally' bump into her, then say hello, introduce myself, get to know her.

Each time I tried to find her, though, I either lost her, or when I drew near she ran away, back inside that silent gray house like she didn't want to meet anyone. When I realized that I probably wouldn't be able to get close I spent time in the woods just waiting for her. She returned eventually, climbed a tree and sat and simply watched the day pass. Daydreaming, with a distant look in the largest eyes I've ever seen, the bright green of spring leaves, like that of a lost puppy.

I know that look; I saw it on my brothers before. I've even seen it on Mom's face. It's a pleading sort of look, something that says the person doesn't know what to do or where to go or wishes things could be different. Before the Academy, my brothers and I all shared those same thoughts. Now we're better. Mom's better. But I've noticed that look, recognized it, on _her_ face now. And on her, it appears far more pronounced. Because lost eyes like that don't belong on a girl like her.

Her face flashes in my vision again. Sweet. Pretty. Haunted.

I felt it the moment I first saw her in proximity. She's scared. But of what, I don't know. I want so badly to tell her not to be though. I want to become her friend.

She stands now at the end of her drive, still waiting.

My heart bounces around in my chest, and I press my hands against the window, breath fogging the glass while I silently urge her to go back in.

 _What are you doing, you crazy girl? It's late and it's raining. Where are you going?_

The fact that I'll get answers from simply standing here watching is about as likely as North deciding he likes junk food after all.

Definitely not happening.

She stands still, alone. I suddenly wonder if she does this every night, like some sort of routine, and I never noticed? But another darker thought enters my head then. What if it's something more serious? She has a backpack. That unwelcome tingle pricks along my neck again.

She has a _backpack_.

No, this isn't just some nightly ritual. And she doesn't appear to be out for a stroll, not on a stormy night like this. Maybe she's running away. But what can she possibly be running away from? The only problem is, what could I do now? What should I do?

I continue to watch, not wanting to take my eyes off of her in case she takes off somewhere.

Should I step in?

Echoes sweep through my mind, of Mr. Blackbourne warning about getting involved in uncertain situations. Basic Academy training instilled the common sense to never put ourselves in front of someone if we don't know who they are and what they're capable of.

 _Don't expose yourself to people you don't know._

 _Don't involve yourself unless you know for sure what the story is._

But if this girl runs away, then I might never discover the story at all. My heart's telling me that if I don't seize the opportunity now, there won't be another. And I'll never forgive myself if I let her disappear forever with those haunted eyes of hers. Without knowing her story, her past, her life, what could possibly be going on for such a sweet girl to make her desperate enough to run away.

Even Mr. B would send me out for this.

And I barely have enough time.

In a flash my mind's made. I've got one shot at this. I'll either scare her off into the night, or maybe if I'm lucky she'll be just frightened enough to turn back. I would watch over her all night if I have to, to make sure she stays in. I pray that I won't be sending her to be hurt, or in an otherwise dangerous situation. I never saw any signs of abuse on her, but I know too well that abuse isn't merely physical, or even visible for that matter.

"Max," I whisper to my dog, "let's go."

Max is up and at the stairs in an instant. I stuff my shoes back on, ignoring their wetness, grab a poncho and throw it over my body as I follow him down. Once out in the garage though I stop, checking out the scene again. Blood rushes to my head in the second I think that I've lost her, that she's already taken off in the period it took me to get down. I swallow, force myself to calm, count to ten.

No, there she is, still standing, still waiting. For what I cannot fathom.

My heart continues to bounce erratically about my chest. I feel my hands begin to tremble. They never do that. I'm always steady, I'm the steady one, the leader. Nothing can shake me, not after so many years of seeing such disturbing and amazing things. The Academy trains its members to think on their feet, to be aware that, no matter what, we're protected, so we never fear anything. Fear only weighs one down and distracts from the job.

But I'm afraid now.

Actually, I'm terrified.

What if I try to stop her and she calls the cops? What if her parents hear her rushing back in, fearing for her life, and they come out looking for me? Or what if exposing the either of us causes her to get into major trouble?

A wet nose brushes against my clenched hand, comfortingly familiar. Max flanks my side, firm and ready at my command. His nose is upturned and sniffing the air, sensing the presence of someone out there nearby. I really appreciate his obedience right now, that he's so quiet and patient.

The beginnings of a plan forms in my head, and I reach for Max's lead hanging from the wall. I won't move until she does. If she's reconsidering, then I'll simply watch over her. And if she goes into the woods tomorrow then I'll intervene for sure this time.

She needs someone. Staring at her now, I know it. I just do. Maybe she doesn't, not yet, but I can help. Whatever it is, I know there are people out there who wouldn't ever turn away someone like her. The Academy's capable of so many amazing things for the right kind of person.

One, one thousand. Two, one thousand. Waiting's hard. Harder than I ever imagined. So I don't know what else to do but count at this point. I barely reach ten when she moves. One foot, then another. She turns in my direction and starts walking slow, keeping to the shadows. It gives me an advantage because this way she can't see me, and won't see until after I enact my plan.

I have to take this chance. Now. In the few seconds she started moving I've managed to come up with a thousand different scenarios, each more unpleasant than the last and all of them I disliked. I want her to trust me, to talk to me. How exactly could I do that?

I let out a breath. _You don't have time for this!_

"Max." I try to imitate Mr. B's voice when he needs our attention, and my dog stands straight and tall, proud. I tighten my grip on his lead. I can only hope she doesn't get hurt. It's already risky. "Get her," I command. "Take her down."

Max shoots off. And I cringe.

The moment I release him I feel like I just made a gigantic mistake. She'll run into the garage. She'll scream. She'll fall and break her arm.

My dog never hesitates, nor does he slow his pace as he collides into her. Her book bag falls away. But no scream. The sudden, terrifying thought that Max knocked her out flits through my mind and my legs run of their own accord toward where the girl's shadow is now sprawled on the wet pavement.

"Hey!" I cry out, "are you okay?"

She turns to look at me, although I can't see her clearly through the rain. Max is still sitting on her legs like I trained him to do.

At least she's moving, so she's conscious.

I breathe out in a relieved rush. When I stand over her I realize Max is licking at her arm. "I'm sorry." I motion with my hands. "Max, get off of her."

Words tumble around in my head, mostly a billion and one questions. I'm worried she may be really hurt. I'm worried she'll run soon as she stands. I want to say something, but I can't quiet everything down enough in my head to single out the ones I want. _Give me a chance. You can talk to me._ And maybe most importantly, _Please don't run._

She still hasn't made a single sound though. Not even yelling about Max. That worries me, too. As Max clambers off I kneel down beside slide an arm around her shoulders, but then hesitate when she stiffens. Maybe she _is_ hurt, after all.

A bout of guilt jabs at my side.

"Are you hurt?" I ask.

Her body quakes under my touch, and I don't realize until that moment how truly small she is, how fragile she feels and how badly I want to lift her up into my arms, away from the dirty street and wet ground and out of the rain.

I resist the urge.

She shifts, shoving her arm toward over her chest, and speaks through gritted teeth. "It's okay," she says, her voice soft with the hint of a melodic husk underneath. It's beautiful, like the rest of her. "It's fine."

Only the outline of her face is visible, but I know she's lying. "No, you're not," I reply, trying to keep my voice light and friendly. "You scraped your arm." I notice she hasn't pulled away from me yet. She barely moved, besides the initial stiffening. I move my arm to her waist. "You can stand, right?" I ask.

"I think so," she replies.

The wind picks up, sending a fresh wave of rain and chill around us. What a night to be out. She really didn't plan this out. _I really hope it's something different_ , I think as I stand with her, my arm still loose at her waist, unwilling to let go completely. I move in front to shield as much of her as possible from the storm.

But now that I'm up close I can see clearly that the bag is packed full, and she seems nervous, even in the shadows. She remains quiet, so I can't tell what she's thinking; I'm only grateful she isn't pulling away or trying to run. Yet.

Here's my chance. Maybe I shouldn't risk it, but if I make I'm thinking sound like it's no big deal, she may just buy it. Maybe.

I suppress a frown. There were too many maybe's going on.

"I'm going to take you to my house," I state, deciding to go for it. It comes out more like a command, kind of how I hope to sound like Mr. B when I want the others to listen to me. But now's not the time for that sort of tone.

She turns her head, and her face catches a bit of wayward light from down the road, giving her features an almost angelic sort of glow.

My heart pounds. Literally, I can feel it pounding in my ears, like I'm going to faint, and I resist the urge to count under my breath. _Not the time!_ Ha. I snort. I feel like I've done a hundred pushups, more. Then I realize I'm still hanging on to her for dear life, and my neck turns hot. I thank God it's dark because she can't see my red face. I want to help, I know I do, but I can't stop thinking how pretty she is.

 _Deep breath in, Kota, deep breath._ No need to get carried away. _She's in trouble you doof._

My eyes flick over to where her book bag lies on the street. I move to pick it up and grunt, surprised at how much it weighs. It makes me wonder how long she was planning to be gone for. I shudder at the thought it might've been forever had I not stopped her tonight.

Maybe I caught her just in time.

"Let me take it," she says, noticing the bag in my hands.

I shake my head. "No." I lift the bag over my shoulder and put an arm around her shoulder. "Let's get you out of this rain. We'll assess the damage inside," I say.

"What about your dog?" she asks. My lips quirk up, slightly. She's the one hurt yet she's more worried about Max.

"He'll follow," I reply.

She starts trembling again, and I tug at her arm, the uninjured one, gently. I lead her toward my garage, where the security light comes on. "Come on." I try to sound encouraging. Maybe if I get her inside quickly enough she'll stop being so scared. Right now I can't stand the way she's shaking.

In the downstairs hallway I finally release her, and she falls in step behind me as I climb up the stairs to my bedroom. I double check with a glance over my shoulder, and there she still is, following closely, eyes squinting in the dark. I try to reassure myself that if she wanted to leave, she already would have; she hasn't. Fingers crossed that she's decided to stay, and open up to me about what exactly is going on. I can help. I _know_ it, I do.

I hurry to my desk in the corner and tap the lamp a few times to brighten up the room. Then I turn, and seeing her in the better light, I freeze. Wisps of her hair cling to her face. The rest is pulled back in a messy twist at her nape. Her cheeks and nose are pink, the hue even brighter against her pale skin tone.

But it's her eyes that hold mine. They're a light green in the light. They speak everything she's feeling, everything that she is right now as she stands in my bedroom. Beautiful, aware, terrified, haunted…and above it all, curious.

I've never before had the chance to be this close to her since she moved in. I already know she's stunning, could've told that from a distance. I try to smile at her to appear friendly, to show her I mean no harm, and I think I manage a small one. I start counting instead: ten fingers, two eyes, one two, three four…light bruises on her arms but they seem old. And…a scar at her elbow?

Then I notice the long gashes along her forearm, gleaming red, and feel another pang of guilt. Although right now I feel more relieved she chose to stay.

"I'm sorry," she says, so suddenly and quiet that I almost miss it. "I should probably have taken my shoes off. They're soaked."

 _What? She's worried about her shoes, of all things?_ I can't decide between blowing out an exasperated breath or grinning at her misplaced concern.

So I go for casual. "I'm not worried about the carpet right now. One thing at a time." I head to the bathroom. "Take that poncho off and let's look at your arm."

She struggles a moment with the poncho hugging her wet form. When she finally pulls it off, her shirt underneath sticks to her body. I swallow, urging myself to turn away. My eyes don't listen. They remain glued to her. I tell myself that I'm checking her over for other injuries, any missed cuts or bruises. Really though it's mostly about her shape. I didn't expect to see it so soon—er, ever.

 _Focus!_ I give myself a mental shake and take the poncho from her before hanging it over the curtain rod. When I reach for her arm next she gives a light tug, wincing. The guilt settles into my stomach, hard.

"My god. I'm sorry. Really. This was my fault."

She shakes her head at me. "It was your dog. Not really his fault. He was excited, I guess."

I force down a gulp. I meant well, of course, but I wish there had been a better way to go about this, that I could've planned it out better. "He was excited," I repeat, and inwardly cringe at how dumb that sounds. Then I scrounge around a bit for the first aid kid while preparing my story. I try concocting some from truth so as to avoid outright lying to her. I don't want to forge a relationship from lies. "I've noticed the lead was getting thin in the middle for a while. When he smelled or heard you, he took off and it broke." Okay, small lie. I don't have to explain everything literally, right? "He's not usually that bad. He needed to go out but hates this weather. So, I'm sorry about that. I should have replaced the lead before now. And I don't know why he jumped on you. He never does that."

Am I rambling? I'm definitely rambling now. I stick my tongue to the roof of my mouth, stopping myself short of saying something that would give away too much. Instead I start arranging what I need to clean her arm then pause, feeling her stare on me. I return a quizzical look, trying to determine whether or not she can see through my lie. I didn't think I have any tells, but some people tend to be more perceptive than others. Maybe she—

"…name," she says softly.

I stop, confused. "Hm?"

"I don't know your name."

Oh. Right. Of course. "I'm Kota." I grin, relieved. She remains quiet, and for the first time in a very long time I find it difficult to read someone who isn't Academy-trained to conceal feelings. I find it hard to read her. Um… "What's yours?" I ask finally.

"Uh…Sang."

"As in, I sang a song?"

She nods. "I know it's weird."

Not the word I would've used. More like unique, maybe. "No weirder than 'Kota'."

She smiles, and the subtle shift is enough to boost my confidence. This must be right. It is. She has to feel safe here. Mr. Blackbourne and the others couldn't say anything against this.

Part of me doesn't even want to mention it. Maybe I don't have to. What if I can talk to her and figure out what the problem is? Normally, I wouldn't hesitate to bring anything to Mr. B or the other members of my team, but if I can solve this quickly enough, or at least give her some mode of support, there won't be a reason to ever tell them. I want to believe it, really I do. But here she is, standing in a strange boy's bedroom late at night, no questions asked, after she tried running off only minutes before. No simple reason comes to mind for this kind of behavior. No good ones, at least. Most girls wouldn't have followed me home just like that. Most girls would be suspicious. But this one doesn't seem like most girls.

I prep a clean cloth with some peroxide. "It's nice to meet you," I say. "And please don't hate me."

Her head snaps in my direction. "For what?"

I take her arm, and being as gentle as possible, press down the cloth. She stiffens hard at first, then starts to shake. _Not again_.

I grimace and clean it up swiftly, glad it's only a surface wound. Then I find a large bandage to cover it. She doesn't say or do anything, so I go ahead and do it myself. "I think you're patched up." I rub the edge of the bandage to make sure it sticks, then toss the wrapper away. "Anything else broken or bleeding?" _Please say no, please say no_. Not that I wouldn't fix it, but the arm is enough to feel guilty about.

She shrugs. "I'm fine."

I'm not entirely sure if that's true, but maybe she means there isn't anything else scraped up like her arm. I give her a nod. "Okay. Well, Sang, I hope this won't ruin your first impress of me right off."

"What do you mean?" She looks alert, like an inquisitive child. Her eyes dart around, but her body's still shaking considerably. I understand her to be nervous, although that initial spark of interest in her eyes is something I can't get my mind off of. She's not too afraid of me. That's good. I can approach the issue slowly.

"I mean we are neighbors, right? Your family just moved in?"

"Yes." Sang's voice softens. "No. I mean, don't worry about it. It was just an accident." Her lips press together. Instinct tells me she wants to talk, but is unsure if she should. I know she doesn't trust me yet—she barely knows me—but I wish I can tell her otherwise, make her understand. I know, though, from knowledge and past experience that trust is earned with time.

"So what were you doing out so late?" I hedge, wondering at her answer.

Darting eyes, and I know it's a lie before she utters a single word. "Just taking a walk. I couldn't sleep."

"With a book weighing a ton on your back?" I probe deeper, while still maintaining some semblance of delicacy. "In the middle of this weather?" Okay, maybe that was so not delicate a tone as I hoped.

Her cheeks flush scarlet, and her lips twitch like she wants to say something again but stops herself, or she can't find the words. Damn. Worse than I thought. I attempt a more sympathetic approach. "Hey, I'm sorry. Look, it's personal. Whatever it was, did you have to do it in the middle of the night?"

"It felt like a good idea at the time."

"Okay," I say, and look down at her still-wet clothes. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to find her something to wear. I'm going to do downstairs to change. I'll make some hot chocolate, too. If I come back and you're not here, I'll understand. If you are, you get to tell me what's going on." I move toward her slowly until I'm so close I only have to bend until my forehead touches hers. I want her attention.

Then I pause, because for a second, those light green eyes steal _my_ attention. Like a delicate cut across my heart, feeling her wanting to trust me, to trust in me, and then that little twinge of haunted ghosts floating around inside her. "I make a halfway decent friend if you give me a chance," I finally whisper.

Sang nods before turning her head to look away. I study her a moment, wondering if she's just trying to appease me and she means to turn tail and run the moment I leave. If I return and she's not here, I know I'll have no choice but to call Nathan and the others. I'll follow her to make sure she's okay, and then maybe get the Academy to send in a girl, someone she might be more comfortable talking to.

I move to the closet, seeking out some clothes for Sang to change into. She probably has her own in the bag, but I still want to give something of my own. I pull out a gray T-shirt and some pajama bottoms. "These might be too big, but the pants have a tie." I close the closet door and turn to see that she's retreated into the bathroom. I hold up the items and she takes them willingly. "Just put your wet things in the bathtub for now. When they aren't so soggy, we'll toss them in the dryer."

Her lips move as if she wants to say something.

Then she smiles.

It's the warmest smile I've seen from her all night and maybe since I first noticed her. Her eyes light up in a way that, in spite of her soaked outward appearance, strikes heat to my very core.

I struggle, wanting to smile back, to say something. Anything. _Tell her she's pretty. Tell her she's safe._ My words are lost.

 _What is wrong with me, dammit!_ I've never felt so scrambled before.

I gently close the bathroom door and lean back against it, waiting, listening. If she wants to leave, she'll turn the handle and I would feel it.

Nothing.

I wait for shuffling, any sort of sound. Then I hear her move, but it's not towards the door, and I let out a relieved breath.

At least for now, Sang is safe. If I have anything to do with it, that's the way it'll always say.

I head downstairs, moving quickly to get her something warm to drink and return before she has a chance to change her mind and leave. My heart races, pounds, my mind is zipping through ideas at the speed of light, one after the other, three million meters per second…

I'm way too excited. I need to calm down and focus if I want to help her.

And I want to. I _need_ to.

I know I shouldn't feel like this. I'm helping someone else, someone in trouble, but the deepest, most selfish part of me can't contain a happy spark, the urge to learn everything about Sang. Those green eyes of hers, that amazing smile—I want to see that again. I want it to stay in place forever and not disappear.

I swallow, attempting for some semblance of control. I need to focus.

Yet my thoughts settle again on that smile. Her delicate, petal-pink lips. They're tearing at me, melting me from the inside out in ways I never dreamed possible.

I press a palm against my chest as I hurry to do what I need to so I can get back to her.

I'll help Sang.

No matter what it takes.

 **A/N: Omigosh it's been a SUPER long time since I've written any fanfics, and I'm so sorry for any one of you who were waiting for this chapter (if you were). Initially I wasn't planning on writing a Kota chapter because C.L. already came out with a "Meeting Sang: Kota" when I first wrote "Nathan", and since I was satisfied, I didn't feel the need to write a Kota's POV. I just wrote the other boys to satiate my own curiosity and try to get into the boys' head to exercise my writing muscles. But then people really loved this and asked for a Kota chapter, and, well, I couldn't stand to disappoint my loving readers so here you go, guys, a Kota chapter. Definitely not as good as C.L's, of course, but I hope it pleases you all the time. Happy reading! :D**


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